The Work Experience trial
by Piper J. Nox
Summary: "Poor, dear innocent Evans, it seems you have been mislead by the notorious small print at the bottom, in which states your working partner for the placement." Potter pointed to the small print. The small print in which Lily Evans wanted to burn.
1. Chapter 1 The Sign Up

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, characters or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 1: The Sign up**

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><p>"Hogwarts, this year will take part an even event in which will greatly enhance the education, that will hopefully lead our sixth year students closer to their future outside of Hogwarts." Professor Dumbledore began, grasping the full attention of hall without effort. "We are trialling an opportunity for sixth year students to work in the career place that they most desire, to fully aid their decisions in which NEWTs. they shall take next year."<p>

Professor McGonagall arose, joining the rosy faced headmaster on the stand. "If all sixth years can please make an orderly line near the entrance of the hall to sign up." Almost at once, the hall buzzed with noise, as sixth years from each house pushed and pulled in order to have their names signed first, ignoring any attempt of control in an almost barbaric fashion.

However I, Lily Evans wasn't a girl to push, or pull another student out of line, in fact I found it rather unnecessary thank you very much. I got up, scowling at the trailing snake-like line that had formed.

"Honestly Lily, this line lasts Godric knows how long...can't we just...skip?" Marlene McKinnon, one of my best friends whined. This was a common habit of hers; she had never learned the concept of patience.

"No. It's rude to push in front." I said, trying to ignore the fact that even after a few minutes in line we were still at the back.

"But Lily, they're doing it, so why can't we?" I rolled my eyes, following the direction in which Marlene was pointing, realising why we were still very much at the back of the line.

"Potter." I growled, my fists clenching. Yes, James Potter himself followed by his little gang of what I would probably guess as the future 'Zonko's' of the country were directing themselves right to the front, and even more alarming was the fact that the majority of sixth year were treating them as royalty, actually letting it happen. I stormed to the front of the line, dragging a very smug Marline with me, determined to restore order. "Excuse me, but what do you think you are doing?" I asked, hands on hips. Potter and Black laughed, both being handed a quill then scrawling their names down on one of the pieces of paper. "Well?"

"Saving time dear Evans." Potter replied, casually throwing the quill to an un-expecting Peter Pettigrew whom fell flat on his back attempting to catch it.

"Do you mind? There are other people been waiting here longer than you have, so please head to the back of the line." I pointed to the spot in which myself and Marlene had previously stood.

"Nah, rather not Evans. You see, we have a master plan in the midst of being built, and this is merely taking the time away that we so desperately need." Black answered, passing his quill to a Ravenclaw girl, whom he chose to wink at.

"Hey!" Remus Lupin, the more decent of their gang nudged Black. "I kind of needed that quill."

Black shrugged. "Sorry man, the lady needed it more."

I clapped my hands, attempting to get them all to focus. "Go to the back." I ordered again.

"Were done now, you can have our space" Potter answered, also winking at me, acting as if he was doing a good deed.

"That's not the point. It's the principle."

"Principle or not Lily, we are having that space." Marline yelled excitedly, ignoring me and writing her name down. "Here, I've written your name down as well, Auror office right?"

I blinked. Had anybody any conscience?

"So, I see you chose the auror office Evans. See yourself fighting evil do you?" Potter joked. "Evans, evil slayer!" Both Black and himself chose to do super hero poses, getting cheers from bored students at the back of the line, admittedly where the both of them should be.

"Potter, I'm serious."

"No dear, that would be identity theft. I'm Sirius." Black said, wagging his little finger at me, pretending to look disappointed. Respectively, I responded by standing on his toe.

"Well Evans, just to let you know we both signed up too."

"And me!" Pettigrew added, jumping up and down like a Cornish pixie.

"Only if you have the grades." I replied, folding my arms. "It depends on your current grades and your predicted grades for NEWTs"

"That's right, Miss Evans."

I turned around, my shoulders relaxing as finally some order was to be put into the situation.

"Minnie!" Black sang, holding out his arms. "Loved your speech. Full of class."

"Thank you Mr Black, but being as you loved my speech so much, I should wonder why all four of you have forgotten it so quickly." Professor McGonagall scolded, her voice stopping the chaos of the line that was slowly decreasing in size. "My orders were specifically to form an orderly line; meaning no cutting and certainly no harming of one another."

"Well, we didn't harm anyone-and if you are talking about Wormtail then that doesn't count." Potter nodded, leaning against the wall.

"May I also inform you that the auror office only takes a handful of students, due to the circumstances." She added. We all knew what she meant; there were very hushed rumours of an army being gathered together by You-Know-who, but they were only rumours. I was sure of it.

"We can give it a shot professor, but I suspect the auror office cannot refuse our charm, and athletic ability." Silently (although I would never admit it) I was glad of Black's mood-lifting abilities.

Professor McGonagall surveyed our faces, placing her elegant hands together with a somewhat glowing smirk.

"The auror office will select a few students from each house in Hogwarts that could possibly have the makings for training as an auror. The reason there is such a low amount of students is because-"

"-Because it's incredibly difficult to become an auror." Potter finished forcing me to catch the rather enflamed look in his eye but he dodged eye contact, making me wonder what was behind it.

"That's right Mr Potter." She paused to quickly tell off the not-so-patiently-waiting group of Slytherin Sixth years. "We as teachers shall give the records and recommendations to the auror office, and they shall choose. However, if you don't get your choice there is always openings at Hogwarts." The boys and Marlene groaned. I had to admit, the opportunity to adventure the jobs in the wizarding world did sound much more exciting than spending the whole two weeks in a familiar place where students would hurtle chocolate frogs at you with no respect. But that didn't mean I wasn't willing to try as a last resort.

"When do we find out?" Marlene asked, her concentration beginning to drift away from the conversation. McGonagall checked her watch.

"If all goes according to plan...tomorrow morning at breakfast." With this, she nodded us a good day, and shank into her animagas form, scurrying off down the corridors, spitting at Pettigrew who accidently trod on her tail.

"She always brings sunshine to the room." Black smiled.

"As much fun as this has been, we are leaving now." I curtly nodded grabbing Marlene by the arm, not really wanting to spend my time in the presence of Potter & co much longer.

"Was Minnie's speech not the highlight of your afternoon Evans? Or was that part played by yours truly?" Potter shouted after me, as I hastily tried to leave before Potter hit on me again, but of course I was failing miserably.

"Her name is Professor McGonagall, and no, the only reason we stayed was to listen to what was to happen. Do not flatter yourself." I muttered loud enough for him to hear.

"Ah Evans, do not deny the love! Besides, from what I can bet is that the auror office will put us together, just you wait." He shouted, Black cheering him on.

"In your dreams Potter."

How was I to know then, that during the nerve racking breakfast, not being able to eat a single bite, (Mostly due to nerves, but Black and Pettigrew played a huge part by disgusting me with their eating habits) with sixth years drumming their fingers nervously on the wooden table while the rest of the school went about their usual business that what Potter had said would reign true.

Suddenly, a single feather floated from the ceiling, landing on the bare stone floor, which was shortly followed by the squawking and flapping of wings, and before I knew it my post had arrived.

"Shall I open it?" I asked Alice Prewett who was cradling hers opposite me, jigging with excitement.

"Go for it Lily."

I ripped open the paper carefully, frightened of what I might see. Turning over the page there were a horde of numbers, and in-between sat my name in bold letters: **Lily Evans** and below sat a few more codes, date of birth and finally sat the answer I had been waiting for. **Auror office**. Instantly, my face lit up like a Christmas tree, looking up to see a mixture of some confused, delighted and downright grumpy faces among the crowd of sixth year Gryffindors.

"Marlene? Good or bad?" I asked, turning to my left unable to read her face as her long, slightly faded brown curls were covering her face.

"Ok..Not what I wanted, but I'm fine with what I got." She showed her paper in which had to decode it to figure that she had been declined from the auror office placement, but had acquired a place as a 'Trainee Healer'. I smiled at her, patting her shoulder. I knew she was slightly disappointed, but I was glad to see that she seemed happy to even have a placement outside of Hogwarts. It so happens that a loud squeak was to be heard moments later down the table from Pettigrew whom had unfortunately been placed none other than in the Hogwarts grounds. I recall that Marlene felt much happier about her placement after this.

"How about you Alice? That is, if you don't mind sharing?"

Alice was grinning, her rosy cheeks plumper than usual as she read her paper over and over again.

"It says I got into the auror office...it does say that, doesn't it Lily? I mean I read it so many times but I am still doubtful..." She passed the paper over to me and now I was beginning to get used to reading the style of paper I was able to quickly find Alice's placement, and she was right. Auror Office it was.

"Don't doubt yourself Alice, you got in! Well done!" I congratulated. "At least there is someone who I like working with me."

Of course, my delight was to be short lived, and positively murdered by a certain raven haired, speckled Quidditch playing Gryffindor.

"Not so fast Evans. I think you'll find that you aren't working with Prewett...and trust me, not everyone you like is working with you."

Rolling my eyes, I turned in my seat to find that Potter had that permanently arrogant grin plastered across his lips, acting as if he knew something I clearly didn't.

"What? What are you talking about?" This seemed to amuse him further, but didn't stop him from scooting on to the seat and shoving his own paper into my face while doing the ridiculous hair ruffle he was content on doing every few minutes.

"Poor, dear innocent Evans, it seems you have been mislead by the notorious small print at the bottom, in which states your working partner for the placement." He pointed to the small print. The small print in which I wanted to burn.

"This-this can't be right..." I stuttered reading the print over and over, just as Alice had done. I grabbed Potters piece of paper that he was waving in front of me heading straight to the bottom of the page to find the same small print that sent clouds over my previously sunny morning.

"Alice, check it for me, please say it isn't true." I begged, crossing my fingers in hope that it would go away. Alice squinted, quickly reading the font before smirking.

"I'm sorry Lily, but it is."

'"Why yes. It. Is. I'll be seeing you...partner." Potter laughed, high-fiving Black and Lupin and ruffling the black hair that I so desperately wanted to chop off. So it was true then, I had to spend three whole weeks observing Auror work with that? Him. Why him? Of all of the people I had to be paired with, they choose him.

**Author note: I hope you liked it and it will get much more exciting as the story goes on, I promise.**


	2. Chapter 2 The Ministry of Magic

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 2 The Ministry of Magic**

"Lily."

"No."

"Lily!"

"Leave me to wallow in my own grief." I say, burying myself further under my duvet, the corners tucked underneath my body, the sound of Marlene's calls falling upon deaf ears. I hear her sigh, before feeling the sudden cold draft of her throwing the duvet off of my bed. "You don't understand Marlene, he will literally suffocate me and I will have no-one to run to!"

Rolling her blue eyes as she looked down upon me; curled up hoping that -as cliché as it sounded- it was all a very mislead and out of control nightmare and that any moment, I'd wake up.

"Lily Evans, you are a strong, independent woman."

I perked up, my head peeping above my retrieved duvet before saying "...I am?"

"Damn right you are. The Lily Evans I once knew would never give up her ground for anyone, let alone a Marauder."

"...No she wouldn't."

"That's right. Now, I want you to go into the ministry of magic, head held high and show that auror office you are not to be messed with—and maybe Potter will follow along suit."

I didn't need telling twice, as I swiftly dragged myself out of the warmth of the Gryffindor tower (fully clothed) ready to board the train to London, which would eventually take me to the grand architecture of the Ministry of Magic, a place I had yet to lay eyes upon.

"I am glad you have arisen Evans, Kings Cross awaits." I heard the joyful tone of Potter, one of the only people who were in the common room at this point in the day, other than a very groggy looking Lupin who didn't look in the mood for conversation.

"If you think we are sitting in the same compartment to London, then you are mistaken." I corrected him, dragging my trunk along the floor. "I'm sitting with Alice."

"Wrong again Evans, we have assigned compartments."

I felt my spirits fall once again to a new low, questioning just how much information he knew and how he always seemed to be ahead of me.

"Tough. Alice is sitting with us."

He shrugged, shaking his head. It was better he knew who was in charge now, than in the ministry where I could possibly make the wrong impression on my fellow colleges.

We ambled down the moving staircases in a small huddle consisting of Potter, Alice and myself; lugging our bags watching them bounce off of every step, squinting at any damage that was on the inside.

"There must be a spell to make this easier!" Alice exasperatedly breathed, her muscles tensing in her arms as we finally reached the bottom.

"Oh there is." Potter added, rummaging around in his trouser pockets, waving his wand valiantly before his own medium sized trunk shrunk down not much further, causing him to frown. He tapped his wand, analyzing it for a moment. "That's odd. Why didn't it work?"

I rolled my eyes, presuming from passed classes I had with him that charms weren't a talent of his. "Maybe you did it wrong. Let me try."

I patted my thighs, hoping to feel the shape of my wand, however there was nothing. The moment my brows furrowed did Alice notice that something wasn't quite right, my hands digging into my pockets a little more frantically than before. Slapping my hand to my forehead, I turned around my eyes automatically counting the amount of stairs I had to climb as it hit me that my wand had to be on my bed. Unfortunately, -and may I be the first to say just how unfortunate- it lay on my bed , which was currently placed in the Gryffindor tower.

"My wand! I-I left it up on my bed!" I exclaimed, dropping my trunk.

"Lily! We are going to be late!" Alice whined, her eyes wide. "I'll come with you to get it."

"No." I stopped her, choosing to be selfless. "You and Potter head on, I'll meet you in the carriage."

"I could summon it?" Potter added, which I immediately frowned down, causing him to lay his head low. Alice winced, deciding whether she should be a dutiful, loyal friend or whether she should cross me and do as I had asked.

"...Are you sure?" She asked again, the pitch in her voice changing leaning towards the idea that I might change my mind. I hadn't.

"Positive." I turned around choosing to leave my trunk at the bottom, heading up the steep steps. "I'm not hearing any walking you two." Almost at an instant I heard the faint footsteps shuffle away, joined with light roll of wheels and I knew that Alice was doing as I had asked, but it was plainly obvious who wasn't.

"Potter, I'll meet you in the compartment. I don't need anyone to hold my hand into our own common room." I sighed, turning 180 degrees to see he hadn't moved an inch.

Pulling out a crumpled piece of paper, he began reading "During the placement (except during sleeping hours) must partners stay together, as loss of one partner cannot be the fault of the Auror Office, but the responsibility of the students to make themselves aware of the team work required by being aware of partners ware bouts."

In English it meant that Potter and I were to be stuck together symbolically like glue and it also meant that I had to be responsible for him and vice versa.

I sighed "Fine, but you are not coming into the girls dormitories, no matter what that arrogant piece of paper states." Stomping my feet a little louder to show him just how much this displeased me, I couldn't help that notice that a smug grin had formed on his faintly stubbly face, that -happy-go-lucky spring in his step wasn't going unnoticed either.

Once we had stated the password for the portraits, we climbed through passing Remus once again, Potter choosing not to explain the situation to his confused pout.

"Now you wait here, I'll only be a minute." With a nod, I headed up the girl's staircase, inching swiftly yet quietly up across the creaky wooden floorboards until I reached the familiar door. I pushed it open; revealing Marlene lying on her bed reading what appeared to be a healer's manual.

"What are you doing back! Aren't you meant to be on a train?" She asked, rather shocked that I had returned.

"Relax." I put up my hands in defence. "I didn't quit, I'm just coming to fetch my wand."

Marlene smirked, tucking a strand of her crazy hair behind her ear before throwing her book on the floor. "Why didn't you just summon it? You know, Accio?" Stated it like it was obvious.

"Look, when you are brought up my muggle's, there are certain things that I forget. Besides, Potter offered, but as you said, I am a strong independent woman."

"Go then." She smiled wafting her hands towards the door as I shoved my wand into my pocket. "And before you ask, yes, the healer experience doesn't start until this afternoon, so don't give me that 'Why are you still here' look."

I smiled, waving goodbye for a second time jogging down the corridor and descending down the stairs with a little more pace. There stood Potter, not even noticing my arrival as he watched the clock intently.

"Bloody hell, how long does it take to get your wand woman?" Potter exclaimed, once he had acknowledged my arrival. "Never-mind, we'd better get going. That train isn't going to wait for us."

We ran arms and legs flailing in all directions as we were out of the castle and on the alternative route, desperately trying to drag my incompetent suitcase along the dirt track.  
>"I don't see any carts." I breathed, darting my eyes between the trees and Potter. "We've missed it haven't we."<br>Potter halted, dropping his bags to his feet, ruffling his hair with his fists clenched.  
>"If you hadn't have gone back we'd be on the train by now!" he growled, face only relaxing once he saw my scowl.<p>

"Well you offered to come with me because that stupid piece of parchment said so."  
>After an inhospitable silence occurred Potter sighed "...Sorry, that was uncalled for."<br>"You've got that right." I muttered folding my arms, eyes averting towards the floor.  
>"Maybe we can go back?" he suggested after a moment, attempting to seek Hogwarts through the trees.<br>"But our placement?"  
>"Well? Do you have any better suggestions?"<br>I shook my head, still choosing not to look him in the eye. I knew full well this was my fault, but hearing him say it was insufferable, making me feel even guiltier.  
>Suddenly Potter perked up, the crazy glint returning like an old friend.<br>"How far do you think the Quidditch field is from here?"  
>I squinted, not wanting to converse about Quidditch. Not really wanting to converse at all.<br>"I don't care Potter, unless the pitch is going to get that train back."  
>"It might not get the train back, but...well...how'd you feel about flying to the Ministry?"<p>

"I really, really don't like this." I squealed my arms tightly gripped round his waist, my eyes even more tightly shut.  
>Even though I couldn't see, I could feel the smirk he pulled.<br>"I can't say I feel the same."  
>Automatically I hit him, hanging on even tighter, frightened to lose my balance. I opened one eye just to check that the small bag that I had around my body in which contained mine and Potter's luggage was in fact still around my body, however looking down was a rather large mistake on my part. I could see the River Thames below, as we flew in the clouds getting nearer and nearer to the ground as Potter aimed the broomstick downwards towards the hustling traffic and pollution of London. From here, my stomach flopped.<p>

"This is horrible!" I squealed in his ear, the broom picking us a considerable amount of steam as we finally hit the ground. Rather gentlemanly, Potter let me hop off first, before stuffing the broomstick in the charmed bag that was around my body. I straightened myself out, flattening my hair, turning to Potter, whom might I add was smirking at me once again, hands in his pockets.

"Held on to me quite tightly there Evans. Scared of flying are we?" He inquired, a single eyebrow raised.

"We shall never speak of it." I told him quietly, peering around the corner, trying not to be noticed by a small cluster of muggles with briefcases. "You have the arrogant piece of parchment, so where is the entrance?"

Potter put a hand up, stopping me from continuing even if I had wanted to. "I don't need paper to tell me where to go Evans."

He walked up the the side of a blocked graffiti covered building, in which stood a very rusty telephone box with a sign that said 'Out of order'. Walking cautiously behind him, I could help my childish attitude as I mimicked his speech silently, hoping he wouldn't turn round so I could flush out my annoyance with speed. "There, should be ready."

Stepping into the box, I peered over his shoulder watching him dial the numbers 64224 M-A-G-I-C and in almost an instant, a sickly sweet -clearly recorded-witch's voice echoed throughout the box, making both Potter and I jump.

"Hello and Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Would the visitor please state their name and business."

Potter and I glanced at one another, myself shrugging leaving it to him, which I knew I'd regret later.

"Lily Evans, Hottie." Potter half-laughed-half spoke in a high pitched voice, attempting to sound female. I punched him in the arm, utterly shocked when a silver card came shooting from the money slot in the telephone with my name and the exact title Potter had given me. He grabbed it and stuck in on himself, laughing like a hyena.

Being civil, of course the only way I could retaliate was to play him at his own immature and un-respectful way. "James Potter, Dunderhead."

Potter stopped laughing his mouth forming a perfect circle as the card shot out, and I placed it on my jumper, bold as day.

"Dunderhead?"

"Hottie?"

Before another argument could progress, gravity defied my stomach sending both myself and Potter sideways, crashing into the walls of the telephone box as it plummeted downwards. By the time it had stopped we were in a crumpled heap, as I tried pushing him off of me, failing.

"Get-off-of-me!" I strained, pushing him hard.

"Dunderhead." He stated, smirking.

"Hottie?" I exclaimed angrily, however blushing as a very confused older wizard appeared to be alarmed at our heap inside the box, so as expected we both promptly got up and strutted out into the Atrium. As soon as I lay eyes on the grand architecture -that I had read so many times in books- my heart started beating. My eyes flew over the flawless black marble in which stood fireplaces upon fireplaces of wizards and witches of all shapes and sizes popping in and out through the thick green flames going upon their business for the day, stoned faces. I smiled at the golden statue that resembled equality in the centre watching the glowing face of the minister of magic wave to all of his employees; probably there as an indicator of hope.

"Hello?" A small podgy woman with electric red hair held out a hand smiling at both of us. We both shook her hand, smiling. "Amelia Littlemore...And you are?" Her eyes browsed our name tags, Potter immediately swapping ours, mine now reading 'Hottie' for all to see. A glowing blush crept up upon my cheeks.

"Lily Evans." I said, raising my head. "These aren't real." I pointed to my tag in which Amelia nodded, clearly her sense of humour escaping her.

"And you?"

Potter ruffled his hair and gave her his award-winning smile. "James Potter."

A sudden recognition flickered in Amelia's eyes, her face lighting up. "Ah, another Potter. Welcome." I frowned at hearing her say this, not knowing how she knew Potter at all, but not getting time to ask questions." I take it you are hear for the Work Experience placement. But weren't you-"

"We had a little mishap." Potter explained as Amelia led us to the lifts, pressing floor two. The same mechanical voice returned as we stepped inside the lift stating;

"Level two: Magical Law enforcement."

With a creak and another bolt, we were upon level 2, following Amelia down the marble corridor, dodging several other witches and wizards until we came upon a door way in which boomed a rather elegant but macho voice. The door swung open to reveal seats of a few students (one of them who was Alice, her face lighting up as soon as she saw us) and a man who was reading from a book. He slowly stopped speaking, coming to notice that we were at the door.

As soon as I saw him I recognised him, that itching feeling where I couldn't quite put my finger on it who it was whom he reminded me of.

"Hello Sir, I've got two latecomers whom said they had a..." Amelia looked between Potter and I "...mishap getting here."

She gently pushed us in, shutting the door quietly.

"So what have you got to say for yourselves?" The man perched himself upon the desk, pushing his deep shade of chestnut hair with a dusting of grey from of his eyes, marking his placement in the book, eyes darted between the two of us creating another strong yet shameful blush upon my cheeks.

However while Potter did look ashamed and wasn't standing with as much arrogance, he was still smiling, one eyebrow raised. "...Hey Dad."


	3. Chapter 3 Honoured

I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 3 Honoured.

As if in a an instant it all made sense, the reason why Potter knew so much, how he had wiggled his way into this placement and worse, how he managed to gain myself as his partner; His father worked for the Ministry.

"During this placement I shall be named Mr Potter as this is what I am referred to by my colleges. I expect you to do the same, however if you were here earlier then you'd know that already wouldn't you?" Mr Potter looked over the top of his square rimmed spectacles.

"Charlus? When do you want these documents forwarded to level 6?" Amelia opened the door again, her eyes wide and deer-like.

Mr Potter sighed, pushing up the rectangular glasses that were falling down his nose, flapping her away.

"As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted..." Immediately, I headed to the last two seats remaining, dragging Potter with me knowing full well that if I didn't, I'd get an ear wagging later on. "The first chapter in the auror manual states the rules that should have already been given to you. And within, it should also state the Auror in which you and your partner shall be shadowing throughout the placement."

I gulped, my eyes shifting side to side at the realization that I hadn't been given an auror manual. My gut sank possibly lower as I saw that everybody else had, their eyes fixed on the black casing, temples pulsing.

"Under your chair, Evans." Potter's breath tickled my ear. I then proceeded to awkwardly slide down my chair, my hand fumbling around, missing the manual, it sliding away from me at every stretch. Upon pausing for a moment, I held my breath watching Mr Potter turn around, my head flipping as my vision turned upside down finally spotting the manual, grabbing it at last and finally feeling triumphant. I grinned inanely, turning to the first page where could see the rules for myself. "Interesting choice of moves." Potter elbowed me again, snickering behind his manual.

"Evans and Potter, you are not in school so don't make me treat you like children." Mr Potter sighed again, his eyes narrowing this time. From observation I had gathered that his patience levels weren't of a very large scale, which made a lot of sense. Well, having a son like James had to distort his patience levels...

"Sorry Mr Potter, it will not happen again." I quickly replied, directing my eyes towards the paper feeling my cheeks rise into anther shade of crimson.

"I don't think there is much more else I can tell you all other than obey exactly what you are told. This is not a chance for any of you to act like children as you have been depicted by your teachers-and your grades-as being bright and mature students. Do not let your teachers down."

With this we filed out into the long corridors of the Auror department, dodging several busy Aurors, Potter and my heads hanging like scolded puppies. So, I took this opportunity to hit him.

"Why didn't you tell me your Dad worked for the ministry?" I whispered angrily, trying not to arouse any more attention.

Potter rubbed his arm, the playful grin wiped away from his face. "Because I didn't want anyone to know. It's personal."

"Not so personal when you have connections into the ministry giving you an advantage into the placement!"

"Hey, my Dad had nothing to do with me getting into this trial! He said it himself that teachers recommended us." His voice began to rise.

"Be quiet!" I hushed looking round to check that no one was eavesdropping.

"Well stop trying to make me sound as though I've committed a crime!" We both folded our arms, averting each other's eye contact.

"Where did you guys get up to then?" Alice questioned, coming over to us excitedly, however she must have notice the temperature drop, because she sighed quite how Mr Potter had before.

"Nothing." I stated, facing Potter telling him to keep quiet. So of course...

"We missed the train."

"That I guessed as you didn't come and find me. How did you make it here then?"

"Magic." Potter's smile returned, winking at Alice whom blushed.

I grabbed my manual irritably, flipping through the pages until I found the page where the Aurors where listed. I scanned the page until came across the our two names followed by-

"Mr Potter." Alice curtly nodded as he came out of the office, hushing the few other students of the placement. I gulped, knowing full well that if he was being our shadowing auror, there was large amount of what I call 'regaining dignity' to attend to as it was obvious the impression I made on him wasn't the best.

"Sir." I also nodded, adding a smile for luck. Potter glanced at me, clearly forgetting my accusation his smirk returning casually, one eyebrow raised. It hit me that-for once- I knew something before he did. He didn't know that he had to shadow his own father for three weeks. It was my turn to smirk.

Handing him the manual, and pointing to our names it took a few minutes to process before the look of utter disgust crossed his face, his eyes resembling Amelia's merely half an hour before.

"I'd shut your mouth if I were you Potter, you never know what is creeping round these halls." Mr Potter said sternly, plodding down the corridor. I seized the moment, heading straight after him, his son following limply behind.

"Sir, hello, I feel we made the wrong impression earlier." I bravely tapped him on the shoulder holding out a hand.

"From reading your recommendation and grades I feel we did." He returned my handshake. "From James's reaction I'm sure you've both noticed that you're going to be shadowing me?"

"Yes sir." I nodded, smiling. "I hope to learn a lot."

"If that's the case, then that you shall. Not to be rude, but I have to be off back home you see."

The gut tugging returned once again as I watched Mr Potter walk away, as I realised that James and I hadn't discussed where we would be staying.

"Potter, have you thought about where we will be sleeping? Or did the ministry say they'd provide us with dormitories?"

Potter scratched his head, a vacant bus travelling through the tunnel of his eyes.

Rolling my own eyes, I called after Mr Potter whom I knew would have some answers.

"Mr Potter?"

He stopped, turning around. "Yes Lily?"

"...I didn't hear, but is the Ministry providing dormitories for us, or do we have to provide them for ourselves?"

"From what I was told, there is a shortage in dormitories due to the fact that we added a few more students than originally planned. So, as you were late I'm afraid that you are going to have to arrange your own sleeping quarters." He smiled sympathetically, hands in his pockets resembling his son.

"Really?" I asked, not really prepared for or aware of places to stay for three weeks.

Suddenly, Mr Potter perked up. "I have an suggestion that I wouldn't ever usually give, however due to the fact that we don't live very far away, and also that your working partner is my son, how would you both like to stay at our house until dormitories are found for you?" Call me aunt Bessie and shoot me in the foot I could not think of a worse punishment. I noticed Potter perk up, grinning at his father with utter delight, however my distaste did not go unnoticed as Mr Potter added "Of course you'd have the spare room Lily, in which charms would be in place so unwanted visitors would not enter."

Potter's grin was replaced with a frown, mine turning upside down at the thought. But in Potters house? Could there be worse places? But reminding myself that I didn't in fact have a lot of choices, nor was it to be for very long persuaded me to accept.

"Thank you Mr Potter. I'd be very honoured."

Honoured was accepting an award for something that you didn't expect. Honoured wasn't living with your arrogant player placement partner where everything was classed as 'Potter turf, so play by Potter rules.'


	4. Chapter 4 Wannabee Auror

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, characters or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter four: Wannabee Auror.**

My footsteps were crawling across the rough wooden floorboards as I stretched out the almost luminous white hands that didn't appear to match the rest of my blurred body. Touching the end of the door handle, my glowing fingertips tugged, uncharacteristically tugging harder until there was a faint noise of a bolt clanking to the floor.

Inside, a Victorian fireplace was full of moving portraits of all different shapes and sizes of a preppy redhead. I moved closer, noticing that in many of the portraits her face was red, eyebrows directed downwards with her arms crossed bearing a bold badge on her robe. She reminded me of someone whom I couldn't quite place.

I continued moving down the creaky floorboards towards a wooden desk where there was a stack of papers, encircled with the letters; L&J in each corner of what I could only make out as poems. Poems about lilies.

It didn't take long to drift round the unusually bright bricked room to realise that the entire room was filled-to almost to an obsessive state- with items, poems, portraits and even hair elastics from the redheaded, green-eyed girl in the portrait. I reached out towards a shelf, grabbing a the hairbrush containing strands of red hair, picking one out and holding it up to eye level. It matched my own locks in which had come into sight. Dropping it, the whole scene zoomed out like a magnified glass placed backwards, as I realised this was a shrine to me, in James Potter's house.

"Ah!" I jumped up, stunned from my horrific nightmare after feeling a cold wet nose touch my own while I lay not-so-peacefully in the spare room within the Potter household. "Aww, Hello there."

A scruffy jet-black dog wagged his long skinny tail at the sound of my voice, its eyes large and puppy-like, rummaging under my bed to reveal a wrangled squeaky toy that barely squeaked. It spat it out on my bed covers.

"Padfoot! Padfoot? Where the bloody hell are you?" Came the questioning voice of Potter himself. Padfoot-who I could only guess as the dog-scatted across the wooden floor, whimpering and scratching the door with his claws before a knock sounded at my door.

"Err, Evans? Is the dog in there?" Potter asked through the door. Quickly, I grabbed a book from the side table, and sat as sophisticated as I could possibly look in baggy t-shirt pyjamas with flannel bottoms.

"Yes, he is."

"Well...Could I get him?"

"Aren't you going to ask if I'm decent?"

"...Can I fetch him now?"

I sighed, my eyes automatically rolling. If I was honest, I was still stupidly angry and somewhat scared from the nightmare which had seeped into my self-conscious mind in my sleep, therefore already annoyed at Potter before the day had even started.

The door creaked open, with a pair of round glasses accompanied with Potters head peered round the door, smiling sheepishly.

"Hi Evans."

"Potter."

"Hi Padfoot."

The dog barked appreciatively, his shaggy tail wagging at one hundred miles a minute.

"What are you doing in here?" Potter asked the dog, its response to jump into my bed, rolling on its belly. Potter raised his eyebrows at the dog, as I stretched my hand out to tickle its messy black belly.

"I didn't know you had a dog, Potter?" I asked, giggling at Padfoot who was rubbing his face on the blanket, sneezing.

"I haven't had him long..." Potter mumbled.

"How did you come about him?"

"Sirius brought him with him."

Padfoot's ears perked up at his owner's name, before jumping down from my bed and heading out of the door.

"Don't forget," Potter added as he followed Padfoot out of the door "Work experience starts in 2 hours."

I snorted as he walked out, closing the door behind him. As if I'd forget.

"They've got to be joking! This isn't what we signed up for!"  
>I sighed heavily, pushing aside the hundredth piece of signed document, stamping it, and putting on a pile for the minister to sign.<br>"This is exactly what we signed up for."  
>"We signed up be-or at least watch Aurors! Not-THIS." Potter pushed away his growing pile of documents with force.<br>"You didn't really think that they'd let you start with the heavier stuff. You should be happy that your Dad is giving us a presentation this afternoon. I am."  
>Potter scowled rather like a child who hadn't gotten his own way.<br>"You would..." he mumbled. "And besides, when do we actually start to 'shadow' the_ real_ Aurors?"  
>I couldn't answer, picking up the big red stamp again, pushing down the words 'Approved.'<br>"Be grateful to even be doing this."  
>I gulped, my back straightening instantly.<br>"Dad." Potters eyes widened in surprise.  
>Raising my green eyes the-oh-so-serious Mr Potter stood in front of our desk, while Ministry officials busily passed through the halls, ignoring our table in which stood awkwardly outside of the auror office door.<br>"James, you knew what was required here. Don't embarrass me."  
>Mr Potter nodded curtly to me, eyebrow still raised suspiciously at James until he walked away, dealing with a very confused Alice who was covered in pink pigmy puffs.<br>I continued to stamp papers in silence scanning over names. Suddenly, my eyes scanned over a name in which I recognized. Why? I couldn't tell you.  
>'Matthew McNolly.'<br>"Evans." Potter asked, tapping my arm. I moved my sights away from the table.  
>"Pardon?"<br>Potter smirked. "You see that man over there?"  
>"I see a lot of people Potter."<br>"Him, the one with bitty facial hair and hat."  
>I watched, raising my eyebrow. He was relatively tall, wore a black robe like any other and just like Potter had said had a patchy beard and moth bitten hat.<br>"Shifty, isn't he?"  
>I continued to watch as he shuffled around on the spot; however Potter nearly jumped out of his skin as the man headed our way, directing his eyes at me.<br>"You finished with those?" he asked, a deep voice gesturing to the stacked papers on our desk.  
>I frowned.<br>"If you don't mind me asking, who are you?" Potter asked accusingly in response I kicked him under the table.  
>"I am here to take these papers to the record vault."<br>"But you didn't answer the-"Potter begin again, however was stopped at the showing of a badge indication he was in fact an ministry official.

I handed him the stack of papers much to Potters dismay, ignoring his 'ifs' and 'buts' and nodding politely to the man named Laurence Jackman—or so I had quickly read. Handling the stack of papers, he shuffled briskly down the halls. There was nothing suspicious about that, well, not to me.

"Let's follow him."

I sighed, rolling my eyes as Potter began arise from his chair.

"You're actually serious aren't you?"

"Beats sitting around here like a monkey."

I had no time to protest, as Potter whisked himself away, sprinting down the corridors leaving me to have to be the responsible adult and try and stop him before he did anything so very Potterish. Something many of us at Hogwarts at experienced many times.

"Potter!" I hissed seeing no sign of him in the almost empty corridor. Out of the blue, a hand was strapped around my mouth leaving no second for a scream as I was dragged into a little nook.

"Potter!" I growled, using my foot as force.

"He went through there." He whispered through gritted teeth, ushering me to hush.

"Look Potter, I know work is such an uncommon aspect of your life, however you are going to have to learn and by stalking a bearded man is not going to get you any-"

"The crow is out of the nest." He interrupted, forcing me to have to watch Laurence Jackman shift out of the vault. What continued to silence me (much to my disgust) was the possibility that this man was, yes, a little shifty. He peered out of the vault door, armed with papers, whistling and strolling away yet cautiously looking around as if he were merely a tourist in an unfamiliar country.

"You can't tell me that wasn't just a little weird." Potter smiled smugly, pushing his rounded glasses higher up his nose.

"I'm not a super sleuth."

"But you are a wannabe auror."

Potter waited no more, darting lightly around until he reached the vault. It must have been difficult for him to watch as I un-dramatically walked across the tiled floor, a single eyebrow raised, my interest now gained.

"You'll get nothing out of this..." I sighed again, as Potter hacked into the magical combination of the vault. Upon the door entering with a wave of a wand we were in. "Now I'll tell you what does seem a little suspicious. That door. You wouldn't think just anybody could get in."

Potter turned his head for a moment, long enough for me to notice the little twinkle in which had returned once again in his eye. "I suppose there are perks of being a Marauder. Finding combinations from your father's office takes four geniuses."

"Or four idiots..." I mumbled to myself as we entered the large vault-like room. The room was like no other place we had ever entered in the ministry; however you could tell it had muggle influences, such as the ongoing vertical lines of filing cabinets, which looked just like my dad's office back home. Along with this, there were shelves upon shelves of awards, and even more obvious was the shelf in which was entitled birth records, which was sectioned between blood statuses. Pureblood, Half blood and Muggleborns. But what was the most intriguing was the chunk of muggleborn records in which were blatantly missing.

Potter whistled. "Man, someone's had a little rummage around, haven't they?"

Without warning, the vault door slammed shut, leaving both Potter and myself in pitch black. We ran to the door, banging our fists rapidly, hoping there'd be some way to get out.

"There can just be one way out!" I heard Potter say.

"Oh, so the famous Marauder can find the way in, but-duh-getting out didn't occur?" I breathed sarcastically hoping to get across just how ridiculous I found the situation.

"So you think we are famous?" He asked, his voice changing.

"Potter! This isn't the time, but I swear if you don't get me out of here and you flirt with me I'll-I'll-"

"You'll what?" I felt his breath on my face, quickly digging in my robe jeans pocket for my wand.

"Lumos." I whispered, gaining a little light in the area in which we stood. I then proceeded to use my wand to hit Potter with it. "This is all your fault. All I wanted to do was what I was told, but noooo, that isn't good enough-"

"My fault?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at my consistent anger.

"Yes _your _fault. I'm not the one who owns the Mystery machine, dear Shaggy." I quipped.

He sniggered again, lighting his own wand and moving closer to the dishevelled muggleborn files. He flicked his fingers through the papers, showing many birth records of muggleborn witches and wizards.

"What are you doing?" I asked

"Riding a bike. What does it look like Daphne?"

My eyes widened. Well, that defeated the object of my muggle joke.

"You know muggle cartoons?"

"Nah only watched it for the good looking one. You should know I'm a fan of redheads."

My eyes narrowed, myself now searching through the muggleborn files.

"Why would anyone want to steal Muggleborn birth records?"

**Author note: Just a quick recommendation for anyone who wants a fun, quirky and enjoyable read of an Lily Evans and James P story; Its written by Campbell93 and named A Change in Perception. **


	5. Chapter 5 Laurence Jackman

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, characters or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 5: Laurence Jackman**

"Why would anyone want to steal Muggleborn birth records?"

Relief. There aren't many times in life where I could honestly say I have felt it, but when the giant safe-like door of the vault ticked open accompanied with the face of Mr Potter, the true feeling of Relief swept through these bones.

Then fear.

"WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?" He boomed, light flooding the room as Potter and I stood gormlessly holding sheets of records, dropping them in an instant.

"Dad, I can expl-"

"_This _is a CONFIDENTIAL room!" he cut Potter off. "OUT!"

We shuffled out, shoving the last record into my back pocket, going completely unnoticed.

We were marched into an office, in which alarms were fading, associated by a few chaotic portraits all looking mighty confused and having the door being firmly shut behind us to stop a few ministry workers from prying into what I could only guess would be the biggest grilling of my life. And it was all _his_ fault.

"Sit. Down." Mr Potter growled, causing one of the two old men waiting for us in the room to begin to sit. "Not you, sir." He then corrected him, causing the white haired man to rise.

"Dad-" Potter attempted again feebly.

"Quiet. I want to know exactly what in Godric's name you thought you were doing in there."

"We-we-" I stumbled

"Spit it out young lady." One of the older men told me.

"We followed a man in there." I said quietly, looking at my feet.

"What man?" Mr Potter asked.

"I-I don't know."

"Do you know how much trouble you are in? Do you want to know?" Mr Potter said quietly, so quietly in fact it was like a lion creeping up to its prey with such elegance, but enough fear to make them scamper.

"It wasn't her fault. It was mine." Potter stood up, protectively shadowing me from his father.

"Quiet. I wasn't asking you."

I ground my teeth together, feet shuffling and feeling an unusual glint of pride at the fact Potter chose to defend me. However it was joined with the words 'strong independent woman' from Marlene as I chose to stand my ground.

"He was a ministry official, he had a badge, stating his name was Laurence Jackman." In one breath.

I didn't expect a wheezy laugh to come from the quieter, less mobile older fellow, who looked rather like something from the 30's. He wore a pure white shirt, covered by a tan check waistcoat, tweed trousers and a pocket watch in which appeared not to work. All heads turned in his direction, even the little tawny owl in which perched on Mr Potter's desk.

"Not possible." He wheezed, coughing as his twin-the rather confused one-patted him on the back. "Jackman ain't here."

I frowned, mirroring Potters expression.

"...But we saw him, gave him our documents." Potter added cautiously.

"Not possible." The man wheezed again.

"Jackman was murdered a few months back. " Mr Potter translated.

There was silence. So much silence, perhaps a coin could drop, resulting in my next relation; so who had we just given those records to? The records in which Potter and I had stamped to say who was found to be missing. Who had been _definitely _reported missing.

"Then I shall repeat my previous question, on terms that both of you shall come up with a much better story, because frankly the last one clearly isn't true."

"I swear on my life dad, he said he was Laurence Jackman." Potter put his hand to his heart.

"Then don't hold your breath my dear boy, didn't your mother and I ever tell you not to believe what just anyone tells you?" Mr Potter began raising his voice again.

"He had a badge- Laurence Jackman's badge. We followed him-"

"-I followed him" Potter corrected, intent on protecting me, much to my disgust.

"Into the records room. It was there that we saw a tonne of muggle records were missing."

"Prove to me both of you didn't steal them." Mr Potter stated, standing up from his desk.

"Dad...?" Potter asked in disbelief. Mr Potter stood, tapping his toe. "You're actually barking!"

"Pockets."

I couldn't help it, I could help but blush as I slowly dug around into my jeans pockets, feeling what I knew to be the last record I had touched. The last muggle record in which hadn't been stolen and I had subconsciously taken upon myself to protect, was going to be the death of me. I had always thought it would be Potter who would finish me off, oh how I was wrong.

I raised the piece of paper out of my pocket slowly, not bearing to look into Mr Potters beady grey eyes in an attempt to hold on tight to my wilting dignity, each petal dropping with every second I handed over the paper.

"I didn't steal it. I was protecting it."

Mr Potter didn't speak a word, uncoiling the ripped parchment to read what I knew to be a list of names containing my own, and several muggleborns whom I was fond of.

"Thank you for that Miss Evans." In an instant the two old men nodded, taking the piece of parchment and walking out of the room, leaving myself, Potter and his father alone, all but the tiny little owl who seemed to be the only comfort left. "You can leave now."

"...what?" I heard Potter ask. "That's it? You're not going to ask any more about that man, or-or stealing or-"

"I know you're innocent."

I turned my head, brow furrowed and for once Potter and I were on the same wavelength. What had just happened? Mr Potter got up from his desk, dusted off his shoulders and began to tidy up his office, as if nothing had happened.

"Sorry, sir, I am a little confused. So if you knew we were innocent, then what was with the interrogation?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"Ministry precautions. I always knew you were innocent."

"But what about Laurence Jackman—or whoever that guy was who stole those records?" Potter asked, before I could.

"All being taken care of. You can go now, I suspect you'll have duties to deal with." As there was no sign of movement between Potter and me, he spoke again. "Off you go."

Both wide eyed, and more than slightly disgruntled, Potter and I trudged out of his office shutting the door behind us.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" Potter. Ever as blunt, shoving his hand through his hair. I suspected he had been itching to do so for the entire time, but couldn't. Old habits die hard as they say.

"I couldn't tell you." I replied, voice still a little shaken up.

Then, to mark it all off Alice came skipping along followed by her placement partner; the bright eyed impossibly shy, Frank Longbottom.

"Lily, James!" she waved, coming closer. "Wow, are you two alright, you look like you've just seen a ghost." She giggled. In return, Potter and I laughed full of monotone. So she laughed like this too. And so did Frank. "Any reason why we are laughing like this?"

"Nope. No reason. We have to go Alice, lots of jobs, so little time." I jeered, trying to sound peppy.

"I _so_ understand, see you later then." She pranced off, a shy Frank following like a lost puppy.

Potter and I found a vacant table, hidden away behind a bold column, flopping down.

"What should we do?" I found myself asking Potter, without my brain having much input.

"Nothing I suppose. Dad said it was being handled." It never ceases to amaze me how me manages to bounce back. Shouldn't be surprised really, I mean rejection after rejection he's still here, so why should this be any different. I mean, we've only just been interrogated for a crime in which could have sentenced us both to Azkaban. No biggie.

"Potter!"I banged my fist on the bathroom door as sounds of trickling water continued after an hour of me waiting. "Potter, you've been in that shower for over an hour!" I crossed my arms, my foot tapping as finally, the noise of water halted and the door opened with Potter only wearing a towel.

"Here you go." He said, holding open the door for me.

"Jeez," I answered covering my eyes "Didn't you bring...I don't know, clothes?"

"Don't pretend you don't love it!" He yelled backwards, and he waltzed down the corridor and into his room.

After a cold shower to refresh me after a weird, and mind numbing days work added up to the even weirder incident that neither Potter nor I had mentioned, I was alone in my-for want for a better word- bedroom, forced to dwell on that incident, replaying it over and over. What still puzzled me was why Mr Potter changed tune so quickly, going from blaming us for a crime we didn't commit, to acting as though nothing had ever happened.

'All being taken care of' he had said. It didn't add up, the fact he didn't ask for any information of what the man looked like, or even try to figure out that there was a bigger picture than two teenagers stealing records, who wouldn't want anything to do with muggleborn records in the first place.

I was interrupted in thought by the door squeaking open, and four paws landing on my face.

"Padfoot!" I smiled, glad of some company.

"Padfoot!" I heard Potter call again, repeating this morning's parade.

"In here!" I replied, scratching the black dogs' messy fur, running it through my fingers as in lay on my lap. Yes, a dog as big as him on my lap.

"Sorry Evans. He's not very...classy." Potter laughed before whistling to Padfoot who looked as though he were sighing, getting up like a four year old who didn't want to go potty. As Potter and Padfoot were leaving I got the urge to talk.

"Hey Potter?"

He turned, smiling "Yes, dear Evans?"

"Do you not think what happened with your Dad today was just a little odd?"

He smirked, his shoulders rising to shrug before sitting on the end of my bed. "Well, yeah."

"It doesn't add up."

"Don't think too much of it Evans. He does weird things."

"Yeah, but that was _more_ than a little odd. I don't know about you but he gave me whiplash!"

I was replied with yet another shrug. But that's when another question (which I hadn't thought of) hit me like a tonne of boring bricks.

"Those older men, you knew who they were, right?"

"I thought you might have known, being as you are more interested in the ministry than I am."

"Where did they take my record? Better yet, who were they?"

Potter looked to the ground. A fast glint crossed his eye, but choosing not to act upon it, hiding from me he shrugged getting up from the bed. As if he pretended I didn't see that! He knew something. My eyes narrowed.

"Look at the time." He yawned, causing me to let slip a little yawn.

"We are not finished this conversation Potter."

"Yeah...but don't worry that pretty little head of yours. G'night Evans." He leant over, and before I could register what he was doing, he kissed me on the cheek, smirking in my face before running out of the door before I could catch him, and jinx him until he was no longer a child bearing man.


	6. Chapter 6 Hero

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, characters or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 6: Hero.**

Even after the strange incident in which both Potter and I were forced to be of witness, the strange behaviour still hung on like a bad smell, rearing its head every so often. Mainly sighted during the times when I was in the presence of Mr Potter. To be specific: Meal times.

"So, Lily, how are you finding the program?" He would ask, cutting into his Yorkshire with a beaming smile.

"Very interesting so far, sir." I would reply, Potter raising his eyesight from the table-probably catching the faint distance in my voice.

"Good, Good. James?"

"Intense." Potter said bluntly.

"How so?"

Potter shrugged.

"James, we do not shrug." Mrs Potter -a tall, elegant older woman with appearance as far away from the Potter men as possible- scolded, causing Potter to sit straight. She wore many rings, her hair was short, wavy, and neat (very different from her sons unruly mess) yet, she had an inviting smile that made her posh exterior crumble.

At this he would reconsider his answer, saying "Just...different."

"Its work, my boy. Always different."

Silence would then occur until someone would stir up the conversation, and by my standards of unique dialect, it would be me who'd choose to ask such questions.

"So, have you heard anymore about those records Mr Potter?" I'd bravely ask, but not so brave that I'd remove my eyes from the rock solid Brussels sprouts on my plate. But it only took once brief look in his eyes, or the tone of his usually official, yet kind voice to change to one of monotone and steely expression.

"I'm afraid that's confidential, Ministry business."

And for the night that would be it, leaving myself and Potter to finish our meal with only inklings of conversation between Mrs Potter and myself, and he'd be back to chatting about something else.

However, on this particular night, two days after our interrogation we had unexpected visitors during dinner, just to spice up our flavourless evening.

"Bloody hell, that weather out there is enough to blow my freaking ears off!" I heard a faint male rumble coming from the corridor.

"Oh shut up Moony, you moan like an old woman!"

But not exactly the unexpected visitors that would be needed at a time like this.

Potter arose from his place at the table, rushed into the corridor where I could spy an exchange of high-fives and slaps round the heads, something in which I could not help but roll my eyes at.

"So, who's going to serve us up some grub then?" the ever so polite Sirius Black made his presence, arms out wide bearing his clean-cut smile in which made most girls of my age crumble. "Your king is here."

Mrs Potter held her arms out, embracing Black in a motherly hug before inviting him to sit down, followed by a quieter more gentle hug and hand shake from Remus, who smiled at me—the first real smile I'd had all evening.

"How was your trip boys?" Mrs Potter asked, smiling and passing over a ladle in which Black scooped up the largest portion of mashed potato he could muster, before handing it to Remus.

"Really windy." This got a snigger from Potter, (who had returned from the hallway, regaining his spot at the table) Mr Potter and even a smile from Remus.

"Oh stop it." Mrs Potter smiled "How have your trials been so far? Testing?"

"Athrimancy is very interesting so far, Mrs Potter." Remus answered.

"Yes, because numbers have such interesting shapes." Black mocked. Potter sniggered.

"Predicting the future through numbers _is_ interesting." I chose to back up Remus.

"Of course Lily flower, whatever you say."

Mr Potter began to get up from the table, excusing himself from his meal and shook both of Remus and Black's hands.

"It is very nice to have you both, but excuse me; I have some work to attend to." And with this he left the room, ascending up the stairs, my eyes following him suspiciously.

With the evening pretty much out of my hands, I also chose to excuse myself heading straight to my room at the hope of some company from Padfoot, but found he was no were to be seen resulting in my reading Hogwarts; A History for the millionth time, being forced to listen to the trampling of feet as the boys ran to a fro past my door every few hours.

"This is useless..." I mumbled, throwing the battered book onto my duvet, wanting to do something productive with my time, coming to the conclusion that I should perhaps explore the house some more. Yes, that would be productive.

I took my time roaming the corridors of the Potter household, peering only through gaps in the doors spying that the room I was in was one of the many spare bedrooms that lay within the house, passing the kitchen where a busily working pot and pan were cleaning themselves and climbing down a wooden staircase in which led to a wooden, rather barn like door that didn't really match the rest of the interior of the house.

With my hands curling round the black ring of a door handle, I pushed it up to reveal a red bricked room with a few old boxes and bookcases, my green eyes immediately sprinting towards the only artefact in the entire household that had so far brought any familiarity: A telephone. Old, hidden by boxes and plastered to the wall, but still a telephone.

In an instant I ran over to it, moving boxes out of my way, placing it to my ear and turning the ringed dial round with my finger, reciting my parents' telephone with speed. I let it ring, twirling the coil round my finger.

"Hello?"

I smiled widely, at the sound of my mother's voice, this being the first time we had really spoken in a few days. Written, but not spoken.

"Hi Mum, it's me."

"Lily! Hello darling, how is it going? Living with the Potters? Is that okay? Are they nice to you?"

"Whoa, lots of questions here, but yeah everything is good. As much as they are hospitable towards me, I cannot say that I won't be a little relieved when they get our rooms sorted. The ministry said everything should be ready in about a week." I could hear mumbling at the other end of the phone, my father perhaps, wanting to speak to me.

"...So yes, everything is great?" She sounded a little more distant now, as if she were thinking about something else.

"...Yeah...Is everything all right your end then? You sound a little odd." I asked cautiously, continuing to hear the mumbling from by father in the background-or the television, I couldn't quite make it out.

"It's nothing dear...just your sister."

"Petunia? What's she done this time?"

"She hasn't come home again, I shouldn't worry really, she's probably off somewhere with Vernon."

I knew what she meant, since Petunia had been dating that oaf of a boy, Vernon Dursley (Or Sir Whale-tonne as I secretly, and quite meanly called him) she would frequently not return home for a few days, stating she 'enjoyed spending time with those who don't accept freaks' so it wasn't as if this behaviour wasn't normal.

"You're probably right, Mum. You know what she's like."

"Evans?" I heard a new voice, not coming from the phone making my turn my head to spy all three boys standing there, an eyebrow raised.

"Err, sorry Mum, I have to go, but I'll call you again when I can." With this, but put the phone down. "Potter?"

"What are you doing?"

"What business is that of yours?"

"My Phone-telly. My business."

"Err, Prongs its telephone..." Remus corrected him before I could.

"Whatever."

"For your information, I was talking to my mother." Potter nodded slowly, showing suspicion. "And I don't know what you are so suspicious of me for." With this, I raised my eye brows and began to walk out of the door, my head held high, red hair swishing.

"Sure you don't want to hear some whopper information we have just maraudered up?" Black asked, stopping me in my tracks.

"About?"

"Fishy business."

I turned my head slowly; eyes narrowed at their smug expressions and chose to stay with my guard up.

But before I could, I heard a frightful scream come from somewhere in the house.

"Mum!" Potter yelled looking up, running out of the door and causing me, Remus and Black to follow, charging up the crooked stairs of the basement. Running faster, going up a second flight of stairs and round the rounded landing we entered a room that I had not seen before; the study of Mr Potter. But instead of in the paper filled desk where he should be, he lay on the wooden floor, foam coming from his mouth, shaking violently with his wife kneeling over him, clearly distraught.

"Dad!" Potter yelled, slapping his father in face with no success.

"Someone do something!" Black yelled.

"Like what do you suggest?"

I made my way over to Mr Potter, quickly examined his symptoms and declared "We need Bezoar." I watched as they all looked gormless, the exception to this being Mrs Potter and Remus who seemed to have some recognition to what I was talking about. "Quickly!"

Remus acted first, raising his wand muttering a spell and a round, hairy matter shot through the air, causing him to catch it, and throw it to me, and then I managed to place it it in Mr Potter's mouth, forcing him to swallow.

"Please, Please." Mrs Potter whispered, as we all waited for some kind of reaction. After about six seconds, Mr Potter began to cough, raising his head from the floor, slightly confused and disgruntled, fumbling for his glasses.

"Thank goodness." Mrs Potter breathed her lined faced showing relief.

"Dad? Dad? Can you hear me?" Potter asked, giving him his rectangular specs.

"Not dead yet, son." He muttered, his voice terribly hoarse.

"What happened?" Mrs Potter asked, helping him sit up, placing a pillow underneath his head.

It then chose to rear its head again, the strange behaviour.

"What?" he replied, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Dear, Lily just saved your life." Mrs Potter reminded him, his eyes making their way towards me, giving me a thankful smile, soon after a line of blankness crossed his mind. "I just wondered how this happened?" she stroked his hair.

"...I-I'm not sure." He stated, looking around.

I retracted slowly, giving him some space and stood next to Remus who managed an encouraging smile.

"Okay..." she sighed, not wanting to press the matter further. She then helped him up, along with Potter, who walked him slowly towards their bedroom, making him lay down at all his protests, Mrs Potter closing the door behind her.

"Go get a nurse. I want to get him checked over, just to check he is okay." At this she slipped back into the room and the closed the door to sit with her husband in peace, as Black and Potter began down the stairs to do as asked.

"Hey Evans?" Potter inquired, half way down the stairs. "Thank you."

I nodded, shooing him away with some urgency.

This left Remus and me alone on the landing, an awkward shuffling of feet before he began to talk to me.

"That was a really brave thing you just did there. Well done, it was really heroic."

"It was nothing really, just something I remembered from first year, remember?"

He nodded, as I returned his earlier smile of encouragement, making my own way down the stairs to check that Potter and Black weren't goofing off. But it didn't escape my notice that Remus didn't seem to be following me, causing me to halt and look up.

"Are you coming?"

"Yeah, just one minute." I heard him say, watching him cautiously enter Mr Potters study again, my feet making their way back up the stairs just in time to see Remus carrying out a mug of some kind of liquid, sniffing it.

"Nettle tea. This is it." He held it at arm's length.

"You're saying that's what poisoned him?"

Remus frowned, moving his mouth. "That, and this." He removed a small bottle with a lid from behind his back, holding it towards me, enough for me to receive a whiff of the putrid smell. A smell that was sickly strong, like the smell of the strongest perfume you've ever smelt, that seemed to attack your throat even from the vapour.

"Where'd you find that?" I asked, coughing slightly.

"On his desk, right next to the tea. Its poison alright, but how it got into the tea..."

I waited for him to continue.

"Yeah?"

"If it was right next to the cup, it's likely it was put in there minutes before he took a sip of the tea." He began to speak in a hushed tone, now aware of Mrs Potter who was talking smoothly to her husband, clearly trying to get him to sleep like a small child.

"Are you saying he poisoned himself?" I asked, already deeply confused.

"I don't know, and I'm not saying that is what happened at all...But it looks that way." Remus answered grimly.

Again and again did the strange behaviour keep cropping up, and now this. A near death experience from a man who had no idea what had just happened, and the only evidence remaining was that he had poured poison into his own tea, but for what reason?

"Unless that was what someone wanted us to find."


	7. Chapter 7 Moody's Protege

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, characters or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 7: Moody's Protégé.**

"Well, doesn't seem to be any major damage but I'd recommend he rest for a while—and someone will stay with him. We don't want any reoccurrences." I heard the deep voiced nurse state her opinion as Remus, Potter, Black and I hid out of sight on the stairs, still watching her and Mrs Potter exit the room where Mr Potter now lay.

"So you do think it was poison then?" Mrs Potter asked, hushed.

"Oh, there's no doubt about that ma'am. Lucky that it was counteracted in the time that it was, or otherwise your husband might not have been with us right now."

As they began to get the the top of the stair case, Potter grabbed my wrist and we all clambered down the stairs, sliding across the dining room, down the wooden case and straight into the basement, closing the door behind us.

"You can let go now Potter." I said quietly, watching him recoil slower than I had wanted.

"Well, wasn't that some action if I ever saw some." Black announced, flopping onto one of the wooden boxes, leaning on his knees for support.

"You can say that again." Remus copied Blacks action.

"Well, wasn't-"

"I didn't mean-"

"I don't know how much more I can take of this!" I suddenly burst out, my hands flying up in the air, pacing with my hands behind my back.

Blacks head dropped, quite like a sad puppy muttering "Sorry Evans."

"Oh not you." My temper rising. "This whole-this whole weird thing!"

"Meaning?" Potter asked, now laying on the floor, throwing and catching a golden snitch I was sure he had stolen from the grounds of Hogwarts. The prefect in me from last year had to resist the urge to scold him.

"I don't know...the strange stuff. First the muggleborn records being stolen by that man- the fake Laurence Jackman, then your dad accusing us for a crime that we didn't commit, then taking a full u-turn and acting as though nothing had happened-"

"Those two old guys who took your records." Potter helped, pretending to analyse the snitch in his hands.

"Yes, and now poison. Or someone poisoning him—I really don't know..." I sighed, finally sitting down, wanting only to be able to go home and crawl up in a ball.

"Hold the anchor, how many days of work experience have you had?" Black spoke after a long silence.

"Four."

"Two." Potter counteracted.

"Still four." I reminded him.

Another silence passed, none of us really knowing what else to say other than what had been said, my now presuming from the lack of questions being asked that Black and Remus had both been previously informed about the strange behaviour.

"...So what do we do?"

"Nothing I suppose. The only thing you can really do is keep an eye out." Remus smiled, now hearing the front door of the Potter household slam shut an indicator that the Healer had left. This was followed shortly by the muffled call of Mrs Potter, beckoning for her son.

"James? James, could you come here for a minute? Bring Lily!"

Potter arose from the cardboard box he was laying upon, rolling his eyes telling Black and Remus to follow. Although, he didn't forget me, making sure I was coming every few seconds. As we approached the main room where Mrs Potter stood, Potter halted, causing a collision. This meant I bumped straight into Black.

"Sit, and stay." Potter turned round, murmuring to Black so I couldn't hear, receiving a laugh from Remus.

Black answered with "So Hilarious. No seriously, my sides are split." His voice mocked, before letting out a barking laugh.

"What?" I asked, but they seemed to ignore me as Potter dragged me towards his mother "What?"

"I want to thank you Lily, for saving my husband's life. " She blurted out immediately as saw her. "It was a wonderful thing to do, and you should be proud of yourself." Potter elbowed me, clearly seeing the shade of pink that had began to creep up onto my cheeks. "But I would urge for both of yours, and our safety that this incident has to be strictly kept between us."

"Mum, who are we going to tell?" Potter asked "Remus and Sirius already know so..."

"Oh and them, tell them this must not be spoken of to anyone else." With this she nodded, an uncommonly worried smile accompanying her lips as she began to climb the stairs back up to her husband, before turning around. "Oh, and before I forget, your father wants to have a quick word with you over the arrangements of your work experience."

We glanced at one another before following Mrs Potter up the creaky stairs once again, tip toeing our way towards the door of Mr Potters room where he lie quite groggily—but awake.

"Now before you go in, you should know that he really hasn't the faintest idea what happened, so don't go into specifics as the healer said it won't help. Just let him do the talking." She warned, knocking on the half open door to his bedroom.

"Come in." Said the croakily voice, so very different to the strong stern one I was so used to hearing.

"Hey Dad." Potter smiled walking in; I followed with a shy nod.

"How are the both of you?" he asked, voice croaky motioning us to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Seriously Dad? You're asking how we are."

He chuckled "Yes, I suppose I am." He motioned for us to come closer, our feet shuffling toward his weak body in which didn't match his bright persona. "But really I should be thanking you, Lily. I was told of your heroics, and believe that I now owe you my highest of gratitude for even being here."

"...Thats-thats quite alright sir. Anything to help."

"Modesty. Refreshing. Anyway there is a matter at hand that I need to discuss with the both of you. You see, due to the fact I have been confined to this bed for a while, it means that you will have to be given a substitute shadowing auror for the time being."

A new auror to shadow? The thought hadn't even crossed my mind and even when it did, it had taken both me and Potter time to get used to shadowing his father, and the whole entire time we'd been there had found ourselves in deep trouble. Something made me know for sure that the next auror we shadowed wouldn't be as lenient or twice as forgiving as Mr Potter. Would they?

"ALASTOR MOODY." He wrote, in bold capitol letters on the green backed chalkboard watching Potter and I sit in the wooden desks with one of his eyes. "Auror. Do not want to be doing this. Being forced to do this, and I'll make this perfectly clear, I do not play games."

"Well you played cards with me yesterday, what do you call that?"

My attention was now not fixed on the broad intimidating man who stood at the front of the office; it was on the slightly chubby, kind faced looking girl, with brown spiky shoulder length hair and electric blue tips.

Moody sighed irritably. "That is Cassie. Unfortunately for me is my protégé."

"Your what?" Potter asked, causing both of Moody's eyes to fall upon him.

"It means I'm a trainee auror, and I have to follow him around, copy him and so forth. No biggie, eh Moody?" The girl named Cassie answered, getting up and holding out a hand for Potter shake. "And you, handsome, must be Ol' Charlus Potter's boy."

The first thing that shook me about Cassie, was she wasn't the brightest spark that had ever fallen from the sky, but for whatever reason, the great Alastor Moody, the man who has to be known as the greatest Auror who had ever walked this earth, was her taking her on. And now, she was hitting on Potter.

"Cassie!" Moody growled sternly, so sternly in fact, that any normal person would have obeyed him five seconds earlier before he had said not Cassie.

"Hold your horses there Mood, got me some introducing to be doing." She walked towards me, shocking me when as she pulled me into a bear hug, grinning. "Hi, I'm Cassie."

"Hello." I replied, eyes wide.

"I love her already." I heard Potter say, laughing.

"Sit." Moody scolded her like a dog, pointing to the seat in which she had previously sat, making sure she went back there, no matter how loud she trudged to show her disgust. Moody took some time to go through more reasons why he hadn't volunteered to be a Shadowing Auror, more time to tell a giggling Cassie off and then it was done, just like that. No hand book, no papers to sign, and certainly no record stamping. "Let's get on with it."

He pulled out his wand and all of the chairs in the room slid to the side, including the ones Cassie, Potter and I were sat in. Then striding through, he left the room.

"Just to let you know, that means we have to follow him." Cassie whispered, a giant grin forming on her face as she skipped out of the door, causing potter and I to follow.

We passed a few corridors before we found Moody entering an office door, and following on command, we walked straight into a real auror meeting, where to be frank, we were not needed, or wanted for that matter.

"Excuse me, but you shouldn't be in here." One of the men stated, his little size not defying him as he shouted across the round table. "Where have you come from?"

Moody smirked, waving at the small man sarcastically. "The two tadpoles are mine, remember that conversation Albert?"

"Remember it quite well Alastor, but I recall stating that they are to be shadowing you, not coming to auror meetings." He then began to talk in a hushed tone "And didn't we discuss that Cassie was no longer allowed...since...last time."

Moody smirked "They are shadowing me Albert. See, I'm being a good boy just like you asked." With this, Moody pretty much pushed Potter, Cassie and I out leaving us to have to sit on the bench without much else to do. But, a few seconds later, he poked his head around the door, and threw a copy of a couple day old daily Prophet at me. "Here. Read this and tell me who went missing. It will be like you were in the meeting all along."

I had always been a strong believer of you shouldn't judge people by the impressions they first give you, as they are usually like the ugly sweater your grandmother knits you each year. You remember it each time you look at her. But in this case, Moody was clearly using us to prove a point to his bosses.

"Is he always like that?" Potter leaned across me, facing Cassie.

"Nah. He's just a sour puss today."

"I take it from the lecture we were the job he didn't want?"

"Catch that much did you? Ha, more than me. Usually I switch off about half way through, but don't worry; he'll repeat it within the same hour."

"Do that regularly do you then?" Potter asked smirking.

"You know it. Can't resist some winding up of the Moodster."

Potter smirked "Then I think we have something in common."

I couldn't believe it...well, I could actually but I didn't think it would take him this long (or to do so with a girl who was at least 4 years older than us) to find someone to flirt with. Angrily, but trying not to show so, I opened the Daily prophet to the back, to read to missing list, gritting my teeth together.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Potter stretch and get up. "You want to come help me find the men's room Evans?" he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

I lowered the paper enough to see he was now trying it on with me, his infamous smirk plastered across his lips "Would rather stick pins in my eyes, Potter." At this he laughed, laughed all the way down the corridor until we was so far away I couldn't hear him anymore.

I continued to read the long list of names in silence;

'_Tracy Fillmore'_

'_Alexander Brown'_

But put it down to reveal Cassie was staring at me, also smirking.

"What was that?" she asked, a playful smile arising.

"Sorry?"

"That thing with Abs."

"You mean Potter?"

"So you have seen them then."

I blinked, now becoming flustered "No, I-"

Cassie put her hands up, giggling. "No need to explain."

"Explain what exactly?" I replied, now becoming annoyed and flustered all at once.

"That he has it bad for you."

I rolled my eyes, beginning to read the paper once again. After a little while I couldn't help myself, I just had to retort.

"No he doesn't. If you knew me or him well enough, then you'd know that he is an arrogant player, who only thinks of himself, flirts with anything that moves, and I am the only girl who has ever said no to him." I said in one breath, rather proud of my statement, as Cassie listened nodding. "There. That is James Potter in a nutshell."

"...Okay." Cassie surrendered. "Whatever you say LilylovesJamesPotter."

I growled, continuing to read the long list of names.

'_Joseph Tillman'_

'_Laura Smith'_

'_Matthew McNolly'_

'_Sarah Ryan'_

I stopped for a moment, reading back up the list until I came across the same name again. Mathew Mcnolly, the same name in which I had remembered when reading records the other day. The same day in which they were stolen.

I noticed that beside his name there was a page number, and as quick as my fingers would fumble I turned to the correct page, and there the headline stated;

**Hopeless Heartache as more go missing.**

And a bold picture in which made me gasp out loud. The photograph was of a family of four, a mother, and her two daughters accompanied by a man I recognised. He had a patchy beard, and moth bitten hat with those same eyes and a below caption that read; **father of two Matthew McNolly missing. **

In a rush I checked the date of the paper; Two days before the day of the stolen records.

Matthew Mcnolly clearly forgot he was supposed a missing man when he was stealing muggleborn records.


	8. Chapter 8 Old moth bitten hat

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, characters or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 8: Old moth bitten hat**

I contemplated in those few moments whether or not telling Potter of my findings would be a good idea, with the knowledge that he would go straight to his father. But those few minutes of thinking I had, between Potter sauntering back from the bathroom-accompanied with a rather too-pleased-smile- and Cassie's on the go rambling was enough for me to decide to keep this from him a little longer...as I knew very well that Mr Potter didn't need this right now.

"Found anything interesting in there Evans?" He asked, as he approached me, holding out a hand clearly expecting me to hand the news paper over.

"Not really."

He smirked, shaking his head "Then you're probably not looking hard enough. Here, let me look."

Quickly, I tucked the newspaper behind my back, watching as his eyebrows began to rise slightly.

"I am not an idiot Potter and IF there were something in there of notice, then I would have seen it."

"Is that right?"

I nodded, desperately hoping he would let it go. But before he could answer, I felt it ripped from behind my back, my speed clearly missing out, his fingers now flipping through the pages of newspaper.

"Potter!" He looked up for a second, shrugging with delight at my misfortune. "Give it back."

He came closer to me, his eyebrows rising comically, and I took this opportunity to stretch my arm out, eyeing the paper. Once again, I failed as he hung it above my head childishly, taking advantage of his height.

"As much as this amuses me-which I'll tell ya' it is- I'm hungry." I heard Cassie declare, scuffing her shoes against the ministry floors, shuffling away from us, smiling at my many attempts to stretch to get the paper.

"See ya Cass." Potter smirked, raising the paper above my head further.

I stomped by feet on the ground in frustration at him not realising what I was trying to do, and also from how childish he was being. But no matter how many times I whipped out my wand to scare him, shouted until my face was purple and jumped up and down like a performing seal, he wouldn't give up. But that's Potter for you.

"Fine." I gave up, flopping down on the bench, my arms crossed. "Read it, see if care." Lying to him.

"Aww, is Evans having a tantrum?" he mocked, laughing now while flipping through the pages with an animated expression and eased himself onto the bench. "Anyway, what was so special about this version of the Daily prophet, I mean, if you wanted to me to read you the lame jokes-"

He halted, pursing my lips as I guessed that he had found the appropriate page.

"Found something special have we?" I asked bitterly, watching him adjust his rounded glasses.

"Its him."

"I know."

"When were you planning on showing me this?"

I sighed "Well, I wasn't."

It was his turn to get annoyed, raising his arms in question. "We've got to tell my dad."

"No." I got up, folded the paper over my arm.

"Sorry?"

"He's too sick right now Potter, if you tell him this it might just overload him, or make him clam up again like last time."

Potter got up, running his finger through his black ruffled mess he called hair, his eyes scanning the corridors for answers.

"Fine, we'll try and do it ourselves."

"What I want you to do is simple enough. It must be, because Cassie herself did it this morning." Moody declared, leaning on his cane for support. "I've set out several clues around the ministry that will lead up to well...a pretend answer."

Cassie snorted in the corner, her feet propped up against the desk as she filed her nails. "To cut a long explanation short, a treasure hunt."

"What's at the end?"I asked, sitting at my desk.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a treasure hunt would it?" Cassie smiled.

"What's at the end Evans, will be like what you'd find in real life—but pretend because the office said I couldn't take you on a real investigation..." Moody muttered at the end.

Potter and I made our way out of the door, and to the floating red flag that symbolised our starting point.

"I want you back here in two hours and be finished." Moody growled, stamping his cane on the ground. "Go."

We began, not really sure of what we were looking for, down the corridors and passed the conference room until we found what I guessed must have been our first 'Clue'.

"Oooh a scroll, how original." Potter mocked, wriggling it out of the metal armour where it where hidden.

"What's it say?"

He unravelled it, and began reading. "You are on a team of new aurors and are on an investigation to find a missing wizard. From the information you below you are to to find him and what has become of him. You have 2 hours." After Potter had finished speaking, an old, beaten up and dented pocket watch with the wings of a dragonfly hovered over, notifying us that our 2 hours had began right that minute.

"What information do we have on him?" I asked.

Potter looked up from the scroll "An old hat."

I gulped "is that it?"

"Familiar, huh?"

I laughed nervously, as we set off in the other direction, coming toward the end of the hallway where the elevators leading to the other departments lay, dodging other ministry workers on their rush hour spree.

My eyes scrolled down the list of departments "Which floor?"

"How about..." Potter paused, and then pointed to lift number 7. "Department of Magical Games and Sports."

I shook my head, my voice getting higher due to the large amount of people now clustered, waiting for their lift to return. "You would pick that. But okay."

After a short wait, number 7 returned with both Potter and I clambering to get into the lift, nearly squashing the poor lift attendant. But thankfully (and embarrassing for us) there were hardly any people wanting to go to floor 7. Once we were out, I was somehow surprised by the look of the place.

Unlike the auror department, or the Atrium it was rather relaxed, with Quidditch team posters sporting the long hallway, while several famous players threw Quaffles between the other ends of the hallway to each other. The only idea that spoke of business was the little man who sat at the end of the corridor in a booth, with the plaque above his head reading: **International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy consultant.**

"This is my kind of place." Potter nodded with enthusiasm, momentarily forgetting why we were here when he saw the headquarters for the official Quidditch team, Pottering his way over there.

"Not so fast, we have a job to do, remember?" I reminded him, pulling him back by his hood.

"Uggh..." I heard him groan like a small child. "Who knows when I'll get, or IF I'll ever get this opportunity again, Evans?"

I stretched up in the air, and snatched the hovering pocket watch midair, and thrust it in Potters whiney face. "You won't ever if we aren't back with the answer in time. Moody will be mad."

We continued down the long stretch of hallway, my fist firmly gripped round Potters hood in order to stop him from wandering off at any moment his attention was spared from the task, taking full responsibly for the many strange looks we were getting from the very good looking Quidditch players and noting down that Cassie should be kept far away from this department for their sakes. But at last, after mostly my searching, and Potters whinging we found our second clue.

"There." I pointed to one of the statue of a man holding a golden snitch and there on top of his head was an old, moth bitten hat. We ran towards the end of the long corridor, passing the little man in the consultant booth and into what I could only guess was a historical view of Quidditch through the ages. Once coming closer to the last statue with the hat, Potter answered almost on queue what I was asking in my head.

"It's Bowman Wright."

"Sure it is..." I muttered, leaving Potter to recite the only part of the history magic textbook he knew, stretching out to grab the hat. Suddenly, a man's head peered out from behind the statue, a finger to his lips he urged me to stay quiet, while he removed the hat from the statue and placed it on his almost balded scalp, grinning with his patchy bearded and all. I stood still, unsure of what to do.

Before I could do anything, he was gone running down the hall, rushing past Potter and I.

"Potter, Its Matthew McNolly." I yelled, pointing in the direction the man was running.

"Crap." Potter muttered, halting his history recital, and began sprinting after him. I followed also, wondering what on earth we would do if we actually caught up to him.

We ran down the long corridor again, nearly knocking over some of the well known players of the Irish Quidditch team in our path, then past the booth and finally, we stopped as he entered one of the lifts, grinning at us as he sped off.

"Which floor did he go to?" I asked frantically, pushing my red hair out of my eyes.

"Err, it says level 4. What's level 4?" Potter asked, reading the dial of the floor that McNolly was going to. He pulled me into another one of the lifts and telling the lift attendant our floor number.

"Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical creatures." The lift attendant answered his question, the lift jolting us sideways. The lift door creaked open, the signal for our arrival onto the department.

"Do you see him?" I muttered, becoming conscious of the loud noises of creatures that were being carried around by their owners.

"There!" Potter pointed, as we spotted McNolly, smiling directly at us, acting as if he were waiting for us. At Potters point, he waved and then began to sprint down another corridor.

We pushed through the crowds people muttering our 'Excuse me's' and 'Sorrys' to them all, making our way into the corridor. But for as far as our eyes could see-which wasn't a great deal- there was no sign of McNolly. However, this didn't stop us from carrying on down the corridor, so far down in fact we made it to the end, and it was like he had disappeared. This was quite likely, as he could have apparated at any time, but if this was the case then why did he lead us all the way down here?

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and from below our feet, there came the distinct sound of a loud growling and screeching. For a noisy crowded place that it was, for that moment it was very, very quiet, only the sound of squawking from a few owls were to be heard.

The megaphones that were hovering in the corners of the corridor began to crackle, and a man's annoying voice sprouted from the receiver, a few coughs to get it testing.

"H-Hello? Bernie is this thing on? Oh! Yes..." he cleared his throat and paused "We would like to inform you that our display dragon appears to be loose."

Let the screaming commence. Crowds of people all rushed into the lifts, only the brave few heading down the stairs to help defend the people from escapee dragon.

"Give me that!" A new voice on the speakers, louder and a lot more deep "Who in the blazes let the bloody dragon out?"

People continued to scream, and the dragon wailed out, crashing could be heard from below, the dragon clearly trying to make an exit.

"We better get out of here." I told Potter, trying to make my way down the corridor.

"No duh." He replied, grabbing my wrist as we pushed past the people.

But before we could get anywhere near the lift, the floor beneath our feet broke through, and a dragons head (about the size of a muggle car)stuck through; It's yellow, hungry eye looking directly at me and Potter.


	9. Chapter 9 Accidents

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 9: Accidents**

"Stay very still." Potter breathed, as the dragons eyes moved, scanning its trembling audience.  
>It stayed that way until it opened its mouth.<br>"Take cover!" someone yelled and I felt Potter knock me out of the way as the dragons head swung round, denting one of the walls.  
>The majority of the remaining wizards and witches who hadn't taken a lift (or apparated out) now had their wands out, ready to re-cage the confused creature. I rummaged around in my own jeans pocket to bring out my own wand, the dragons large head edging closer and closer, so much so now I was cornered. Someone from somewhere from the remaining few threw a spell at the dragon, people yelling as it bounced off its green scales. The dragon retaliated, showing its displeasure by throwing its head up, creating a fountain of rubble crumble down. I sheltered my eyes, my clothes now covered in grey, and a small hole in the above floor.<p>

"Evans!" Potter yelled, from the other side of the beast. "Lily? I'm coming to get you!"

But I didn't have enough time to answer, the dragon roared its wings spreading out as it saw me; the most vulnerable of the pack. I could smell its putrid breath, see its cloudy exhale as I chose to wait for its next move, rather than fire spells at it like Potter was yelling at me to do. Suddenly, without warning its head thrashed toward me again, and I could hear its body crash through the below floor, its mouth veering open bearing many large teeth, and without even wanting to, I squinted my eyes shut, hearing many other spells from other wizards and witches fire at the same time, and waved my wand frantically.

I waited for the pain, squashed myself up against the wall, one arm covering my face, and my wand arm at full length, still waving frantically. Nothing. Not even a pinch.

Slowly, I opened one eye to reveal daylight, and a lot of relieved people, wiping their brows.

"It's okay Evans. You can stop waving now." Potter approached me, his face possibly aged in those minutes, hair askew, holding his arm out to slow my propelling arm.

"Wh-Where...?"

Potter pointed to the floor as in-between us, the size of a red robin was the dragon, jumping up and down, its screeches the sound of a mouse. Potter grinned, picking it up and closing its mouth delicately with his thumb.

"Let's take you back, shall we?"

He carried it towards a short stubby wizard who was so relieved; in fact he was having to have to sit down using his hat as a fan.

"Hello, is this yours?" Potter asked, holding out his palm where the dragon lay.

"Oh my goodness, you saved him." He piped. He held out his palm to take it.

"Oi, Grizby! What happened?" the same deep voice from the speaker boomed. A face to a voice we could now see, a large well built man, ebony skin with one sleeve of his shirt ripped straight off. The little man named Grizby held the tiny dragon close to his chest protectively. The remaining wizards and witches crowded round Grizby, all rambling at once, wanting to know a sufficient answer.

"You were meant to be guarding it!" a bony handed witch threw her fist up.

"I-I..." Grizby stuttered, still clutching the dragon to his chest.

"Hush people, let the man speak." The deep voiced man boomed again, his expression now softening.

We waited for Grizby to compose himself an answer and when he finally did, it clearly didn't please the angry crowd.

"I don't know really, I-I was feeling awfully tired, and thought If I get a drink, I'd be much more alert. When I left, he was this size" he held up the tiny robin sized dragon "and when I came back he was huge and causing havoc!"

"How'd it get out this time then?" someone else asked.

Potter and I glanced at one another, a clear theory passing silently between us.

"Hush people." The deep voiced man scolded again, before talking to Grizby again "Are you sure it was secure before you left?"

"Positive, Acton."

The deep voiced man, who had been referred to as Acton, sighed and shook his head. He shooed people away, wands were waved, and the ceiling above where the dragon had cornered me was fixed as the rubble flew back into place- as good as new.

"Does this happen a lot then...?" Potter asked.

Grizby shrugged, petting the green dragon that was now curled up in his hands.

"Not too often. People here know not to touch this little guy." We followed him across floor, passed the gaping hole in the floor and down the spiralled dented staircases which lead to the below floor. Here, there were a few signs that said all across the halls stating: **Do not feed the creatures. **

There were three options of corridors to go down, Beasts, beings, and spirits. At the look on my face, Grizby reassured me by saying "We don't keep any of the others here. Just him." He raised the little dragon up. We headed down the beasts isle, and at the end was a large cage. Grizby opened the door, and popped the little green dragon in, ignoring the fact that the bars were severely broken.

I couldn't say was impressed at the fact that they caged the poor little dragon that could have nearly killed me, but what made it better was that it was so small, and the cage was so big so it had enough space. That would ease my mind.

After Grizby had locked and mended the cage with a flick of his wrist, he turned his head, eyebrow raised at me and Potter.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your names, you are?"

"Oh, James Potter."

"Lily Evans."

Grizby clearly didn't feel this was enough information.

"We are here for Work experience."

"They do that here?"

"Well, in the Auror office they do."

"So what are you doing here then?"

My eyes widened in the realisation that our treasure hunt must be nearly over. I began to run, Potter calling after me and eventually following as we headed back up the stairs and into the lift, turning the dial frantically down to level 2, the Auror office. We nodded for the umpteenth time to the lift attendant, waiting for the throwing sensation until the mechanical voice stated "Department of magical law enforcement."

"What time is it?" I asked Potter, and out of nowhere the flying pocket watch alerted me that we had half an hour left.

"Stuff this Evans. I really think you should go back home." Potter looked generally concerned for my wellbeing.

"No, I'm fine. We should really try and finish this hunt. If there's a hunt left to finish..."

"See you made it back then."

Potter and I trudged back, with only a piece of burnt paper as our reward.

"Just about. See you heard about the dragon incident then?" Potter answered.

"Just about."

Cassie smiled at me, leaving Potter and Moody to have an awkward chat.

"You okay?"

I sighed at the fact that news seemed to have got around that I was nearly dragon bait.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, for starters, you look like you've got a new dye job and look absolutely off your feet." Cassie ruffled my hair, and bunch grey rubble fell out onto the floor.

"Oh...I forgot that was even there." I managed to laugh, dusting off the rest from my clothes.

I glanced at the piece of paper in which was the answer to our treasure hunt. He died- The man in the metaphorical story, I mean. I guess that this was happened a lot these days, the answer to each aurors story. But I knew for a fact that it wasn't for our story. Matthew McNolly had unleashed that dragon, I was sure of it. And I was pretty sure that Potter was thinking the same.

After his chat with Moody, Potter managed to get away, joining me as we were released of our duties from the day, walking out of the ministry and into a grimy cafe that sat a little way down the street. Potter had insisted that after my 'traumatic' incident that I get something to eat, even after my many protests to wait till we got home.

We opened the chipped white door of the cafe, and let the little bell signal our arrival. It was fairly empty, with only a couple with a small child pushing a pram back and forth, and a little old man who appeared to be squinting at a crumbling novel. Enough people not to make things terribly awkward.

"Heya, what can I get you?" a peppy woman asked once we were sat, a notebook in her hands, pencil behind her very pierced ear and her black hair scrapped back into a short stubby ponytail.

"Evans?" Potter asked me first.

I glanced quickly at the menu, noticing that it was nearing the end of the day; so many things had been crossed off. "Err, may I please have a bag of chips and a ginger beer?"

The woman began scribbling down, and then looked up in Potters direction. He looked blank for a minute, my then realising he hadn't really much of a clue of the meanings of food 'slang' on the menu. I couldn't help myself, I childishly sniggered.

"...The same as she is having please."

The woman grinned "coming right up darlin'"

I shook my head as she walked away, watching him push up his rounded glasses, reaching up to mess up his hair.

"What?" He asked, as I reached out a hand to stop him from messing his hair up.

"Just, don't do that..."

He raised an eyebrow, and did it anyway, "You mean this?" he shagged up his black mop again, watching my face slowly cringe, probably resembling a raisin.

"Yeah, that." I felt my teeth grind together. So, he tilted his head back, a barked laughter.

"Why?"

I shrugged, thanking the woman as she brought over our meals.

"I don't know why exactly, it's just always annoyed me."

"I suppose it's one of the many reasons why you would never go out with me." He smiled biting into a chip, a crazy glint returning in his eye.

"You could say that."

We sat eating for a minute, watching the outside world of oblivious muggles walk by, the evening creeping in as finally the couple and the baby left, leaving the cafe nearly empty.

Potter reached out to the glass bottle of tomato sauce, and shook it a little clearly hoping for a dollop to come out, however not expecting his strength to cause a scatter to land on my face. His mouth dropped open.

"Evans, I am so sorry." He clearly was expecting me to blow my top; he held his hands out in defence, passing me a napkin. But as I began to giggle, his mood changed to that of nervous laughter. Something I'd never seen him wear before.

"It's okay Potter. I'm not mad, it was an accident." I giggled, wiping off the remains of ketchup. "I have a sense of humour."

At this, he began to ease, laughing himself now and taking a sip of the ginger beer. He came away, his face now resembling mine of earlier; a crumbled raisin.

"What is this stuff?"

I found myself smiling at his disgust "Ginger beer."

His eyes widened "Bloody hell, it's nasty. No offense Evans, but you have horrible taste in beverage."

My mouth opened tutting while throwing a chip at him. "Excuse me, but I don't see it tastes much different to butter beer."

"That Evans, is the most insulting statement of the year. Tastes 'not much different to butter beer' my butt." He looked at me in disbelief.

We finished our meal, discussing work experience and my list of taste in beverages, paying our money and walking down the street steadily.

"You know Evans," Potter began, hands in his pockets with a large grin on his face. "This has to be the most decent conversation we've had."

I smirked "Even though you insult my tastes."

He nodded "Even though."

I nodded once in return "Well, good. I don't like fighting all of the time."

"Me neither." He held out a hand ready for me to shake. I managed to stare at it for a few moments, wondering what on earth he meant.

"What?"

"Oh, you shake it. Like a truce. We agree not to fight any more—or at least while we are on the rest of work experience."

I was slightly wary to agreeing to this truce, not knowing how well my infamous roar of a temper would flair down the next time he did something so very Potterish. And we all knew there would be a next time. I held my hand out ready to shake, but held it back at the last minute, causing him to frown.

"..If, you promise not to act like an idiot."

"State example."

I thought back to one of the many heckling moments when he had irked me too far.

"Not asking me out multiple times at a time, or acting like an idiot when you are around me and your friends. You know, Potterish things."

He narrowed his eyes "I haven't done the latter since fifth year and you know it."

I shrugged "I'm not shaking until I am totally covered."

He began to smile, shaking his head. "I suppose some things can be classed as very 'Evans-ish'—like knowing how to win an argument."

I looked at his outstretched hand, and copied, ready to shake on our agreement.

Suddenly, there was a large crack from next to us. Potter and I retracted quickly with surprise, but eased once we saw that it was indeed Amelia who has just apparated next to us. She looked flustered, her face noting that the both of us were here.

"James, and Lily?" she asked, making sure we remembered who she was. "I've been looking all over for you, but James, your mother sent the ministry a notice just after you left signifying that you are needed home urgently."

Potter and I looked between us, thanking Amelia for her message. We grabbed on to one another's arms knowing exactly what needed to be done.

"Not quite sure how well this is going to work, Evans." He less than reassured me.

I raised an eyebrow, my hand now placed over his arm. "How many times have you apparated before."

He gulped "This would be my second time." It was my turn to gulp.

"Better than me then."

And in an instance the world went funny, my breathing desperately tightened, and my body noting I was being pushed very hard from side to side, being compressed quickly down a tiny drainpipe. In a flash it was over, and we were in the main hall of the Potter household, with Mrs Potter at the top of the stairs.

"James!" she said exasperatedly, flinging her arms out for an embrace, moving swiftly down the stairs.

"Mum?" James squeaked, Mrs Potter compressing him.

"James, it's your father." Potters eyes widened, his brow creasing as his mother continued to talk, her voice wobbly. "James, dear you know he has been acting a little off recently?"

"A little?"

"Yes, well, you know that a healer came a tested him the other day right?"

We both nodded, I was unsure of whether she wanted me to listen or not.

"Well..." she closed her eyes, handing Potter a piece of parchment with a ripped envelope. I watched intently as Potters eyes scanned over the parchment. He dropped it and began ascending up the stairs.

"Dad?" he called. Mrs Potter followed.

I waited behind, picking up the letter in pure curiosity, reading over the formal writing. It was a healer report from the other days scan after the poison. It stated that the poison had been successfully drawn from his body, and my name was underneath along with another healer. Underneath was an unexpected report. An unexpected answer to why he had supposedly poisoned himself, and had been acting very strange at the mention of the records. Mr Potter was under the influence of the imperious curse.

I began to ascend up the stairs, being caught midway as Potter dashed down at the side of me, running to the front door and calling out "Dad! Dad?"

I continued up the staircase, coming down the hall, past Mr Potters office and into the room where I expected to see Mr Potter, sound asleep. But that was far from where he was. He wasn't even there. Gone.

"Charlus?" Mrs Potter called, more frantically now, not hearing any answer.

"Potter?" I asked, running down the stairs to help him search. What worried me the most was that Mr Potter was gone, and under the imperious curse. Gone where and doing what, and by whose orders?

"Dad?" I followed Potter into the garden, now calling out Mr Potter's name, dashing to and fro. "Dad!" he called again.

But there, sprawled out on the grass lay a very drowsy looking Mr Potter, his eyes now studying his eyelids, safe and what it looked like, sound.

Potter ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. "Bloody hell, Dad..." he propped his father up, and threw him over his shoulder. "You weigh a tonne!"

I held open the door for him calling Mrs Potter down, helping both of them carry Mr Potter back upstairs.

From somewhere in my mind I figured that this wasn't an accident. Like many of today's events this purely wasn't a coincidence, and whoever the caster was, was sending us a message. A message that said they had control over Mr Potter and were trying to make us worried. And was it working? Oh yes. Yes it was.


	10. Chapter 10 Stuff

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 10: Stuff**

Over the course of a few days, Potter, Mrs Potter and I took turns at guarding the room that Mr Potter was being confined in, only letting him out for the occasional breath of fresh air—just in case something out of the ordinary should happen.

As I passed Potter in one of the many spacious corridors in his house, an encouraging smile was exchanged and we carried on our separate ways, my way leading to the letter I was about to write to Marlene.

"Oh, hey Potter?" I stopped him in his tracks, one of his eyebrows rising up inquisitively.

"Yeah?"

"You ready to guard tonight, it's your turn."

I watched as one his arms flew towards the back of his head, his face screwing up slightly, both eyebrows knotted together, lines on his forehead and looking terribly guilty.

"Well, you see Evans..."I folded my arms, waiting for him to create an excuse. "I can't..."

"And why not?"

He sighed deeply, leaning on one of the walls for support, twiddling his thumbs together.

"I've got stuff to do."

"Stuff?"

"...Yeah, stuff.

I shook my head, raising my arms.

"So, you'd rather do 'stuff' than actually do the right thing and...I don't know...protect your own father!"

"Nah, Evans you don't get it. It's important stuff."

"So you are saying you choose 'stuff' over his safety."

It was his turn to stomp, clearly not getting his communication though to me.

"No, that's not it..." he messed with his hair again, and sighed, scuffing his shoes on the wooden floors. "It's a commitment that I cannot tell you-not mine to tell."

And that was it; he left me alone to mutter "despicable" under my own breath, as I walked into my room and shut the door with disgust. To me, family came first. He couldn't just palm his responsibilities off to other people when he felt like it!

It didn't take me long to fuse out my anger and begin writing a letter to Marlene, hoping to catch both her and Alice for a catch up, be it here or anywhere we could find, making sure on principle that _I_ would be back to guard Mr Potter. Well, I couldn't be a hypocrite could I?

"You know what?" I said, as all three of us sat on the grass in the woods, watching winter wash its self away, with tiny glints of sunlight every so often peaking through the clouds.

"What?" Marlene turned her head toward me, as she lay on the dewy grass, ignoring Alice's swatting at the bugs.

"I hate it when people don't keep their promises."

"She's talking about Potter." Marlene grinned, laughing and patting Alice on the arm to get her attention.

I opened my mouth to protest. "What-W-why would you say that?"

Marlene laughed again rolling over on the grass to face me. "Because it's always about Potter."

"It is not!" I playfully hit her in the arm.

"So just to clarify, what you were talking about wasn't about Potter then?" She asked, trying not to smirk at my unwillingness to now contribute to the conversation.

"..No." I didn't falter...that is until the end. "Okay! Yes, it was, but not everything that comes out of my mouth is about him you know. I have other things to complain about."

"Like?"

I said nothing, running out of answers that Marlene could pick apart.

"Uggh, why do bugs love me so much?" Alice moaned from over near the tree.

"Alice, that's not a very nice thing to call Frank." Marlene called, causing Alice to sigh, get up from sitting near the tree and come join us.

"Don't be smart Marlene." I giggled, now enjoying the early spring rays that had managed to peak through. The area we were sitting in was one we had found purely by accident, and the little clearing bared a home to several different retreats of wildlife, with only the occasional small sounds of singing from nearby birds.

"So what did he do then?" Alice innocently asked. "You two seemed to be getting along well the last time I saw you in the ministry."

I sighed "He is easy enough to get along with, until he does something Potter-ish and then he ruins it." I turned around, facing the both of them. "He can't even care for his own father without-" I stopped myself midway in my rant, realising that I shouldn't have mentioned this to either of them, no one was meant to know Mr Potter was not working.

"Why? What's happened to Mr Potter?" Alice asked, obviously unaware of his state.

"Oh.." I thought quickly, retracting my steps. "He's sick. Potter is supposed to be taking his turn to look after him."

"You have turns?" Marlene asked. I breathed a sigh of relief as they didn't seem to notice the fault in my voice.

"Yeah, well, he gave me a place to stay when the Ministry couldn't, so the least I could do was take care of him."

"That's real nice Lily." Alice smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. I began to look at my watch.

"Speaking of, I need to go and do just that." I started to get up. Scolding myself for the brief thought; that I wouldn't be leaving my friends so soon if Potter could keep promises, and remembered my debt to Mr Potter instead.

After saying my goodbyes and wishing both of Marlene and Alice well on their next week of work experience, I found my way back to the Potter household, making my way back up the stairs to find Mrs Potter chatting with her husband in his room.

"Ah, Lily. Come to babysit me have we?" he asked, now sitting in a chair by the window, a step up from his previous bedridden state. I noted the brighter flush he had in his cheeks this morning, resembling his son as he demolished his formal authority.

"Now, Charlus its not babysitting it's called caring." Mrs Potter corrected her husband. "-Something Lily has been kind enough to offer to do."

He frowned peering out the window, the sun beginning to set. "You should be having fun out there." He pointed. I stepped up on my toes, trying to see exactly what I was meant to be looking at. "With that boy of mine."

I immediately found a tiny blush creep up on my cheeks, slapping it away quickly in the hope he didn't notice.

He grinned inanely, wagging his finger at me. "James is a good boy when he wants to be, except..." he paused, squinting at something. "Except around you."

Mrs Potter laughed nervously, gently taking my hand as we stepped outside, leaving Mr Potter to have a conversation with what he thought was me.

"What's wrong with him? Is it happening again?" I asked urgently.

She sighed laughing a little. "No, it's nothing like that. He's been put under a spell in which will hope to make him less stressed and to be honest, a little ditzy. My theory is that it will help him mentally overcome the imperious curse the next time it hits."

Showing her I understood, I nodded.

"So is it my turn to take over now?" I asked, looking at my watch.

Mrs Potter smiled. "No. Well, according to the rotor it is, but we don't have to stick to that." I found myself now knowing where Potter found his disregard for the rules. "I'll continue from here. You go have fun."

She ignored my many protests, sending me away now not really knowing what to do with myself. I wondered aimlessly round the halls of the Potter house again, coming toward the kitchen at a last resort. From rummaging around a little, I found a glass and some sort of liquid concoction that I made out to be butter bear, and poured myself some. But I wasn't alone for long.

"Hey Evans." Potter greeted me, coming into the kitchen with shin pads on, picking up an apple and taking a bite. His nose scrunched up at the sight of my drink. "Please don't tell me you are drinking that nasty stuff again."

I rolled my eyes, picking up the glass and swirling it around. "No, actually. Its butter beer."

His eyes light up and grabbing my glass suspiciously he sniffed it and put it down again.

"Fine, your off the hook." He put his two fingers near his eyes and then back at me again. "But I'm watching you Evans."

"Ginger beer isn't bad, Potter." I protested, watching him throwing the apple up and down. "And anyway, is this the important 'stuff' that means you cannot take care of your father." I pointed to the shin pads.

He smirked "No. But its kills the time I have spare. Want to come?"

I considered this for a moment, remembering my previous annoyance at him for not keeping to his commitments. I was then reminded that Mrs Potter seemed perfectly capable of caring for him by herself for tonight, so I let this one slide.

"It depends what it is."

He led me outside into the spacious garden, where there were a basket of fruit, a beaters bat and shin pads. I added it all together.

"This is how you spend your afternoon..." I sighed, mustering a tut. "Smashing fruit."

"No, no Evans. You are saying it all wrong." He grabbed me a beaters bat, picked up an apple and began to walk a little way from me. He then bowled the apple towards me, and on instinct, I bashed it away causing chunks of apple to fly everywhere. "Smashing fruit!" he said excitedly.

"How is it productive?" I found myself asking.

Potter shrugged, finding his own beaters bat and smashing down a helpless orange in mid air. "It isn't really. But it's fun."

"Fun?"

He shook his head, and pushed up his falling spectacles once more. "Yeah Evans. Fun. And it's a good way to get your anger out."

I considered this.

As the sun sat further down into the sky I found myself throwing bits of fruit and smashing them in mid air. Potter then balled me a few, on a more than few occasions I managed to miss. It was clear why I didn't try out for the Quidditch team.

"You've got to think of the most annoying thing in your life, and then take it out on the orange." Potter guided, showing me the spherical fruit. "I bet I can guess what it is."

He came closer, holding the fruit to my face. One of his eyebrows was raised as I found my own fruit, and smashed it in a very unlady-like attitude.

"What is it then?"

He smirked, spinning the orange on his finger easily. "Me."

I knocked it out of his hands with my fists purely for my own amusement.

"That, Lily Evans was not very nice."

"Maybe I'm not very nice sometimes Potter."

"Only to me."

"How would you know?"

"Because..." Potter halted slowly, moving his eyesight to his watch and sighed. "I've gotta go."

I frowned, now becoming conscious of the darkness that was sweeping in.

"Go? Where?"

He shrugged, now choosing to avoid contact as the mood changed completely. Without even answering my question, Potter jogged inside forcing me to have to retreat at the fear that I'd be left alone outside by myself.

Once inside the house, he was nowhere to be seen. I huffed, feeling overly foolish, and on the decision that smashed fruit didn't please my stomach, so I headed to bed, knowing that a good night's rest was in order. But knowing what you need and doing it are two very different things.

I couldn't sleep at all, my subconscious mind racing at every new hour, trying to figure out what exactly Potter's secret was. All I could come up with was that it had to be another out of control prank for the Marauders arrival back at school in a few weeks. But even after deciding on this theory as the correct one, I couldn't quite find a place for it to rest.

But that was when I heard it. The unlocking of a hatch door—I mean. Then it were the brief creaking of floor boards and that was enough to make me alert. I calmly got out of bed, and picked up my watch, noting that the time was in fact only ten o'clock and that it may even be Mrs Potter. But somehow that didn't sit right either.

I opened my door quietly, peeking through the gap enough to see the feet of a young man padding along the hallway as quietly as he could, and heading out of one of the windows and into the woodland that Marlene, Alice and I had sat in only today. It lead me to ask out of all the weird things that Potter has done in his lifetime, why was he heading into the woods alone at night?


	11. Chapter 11 Midnight Stroll

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

_It lead me to ask, out of all of the weird things that Potter has done in his lifetime, why was he heading into the woods alone at night?_

**Chapter 11: Midnight Stroll**

I dragged my feet along the wooden floors of the Potter household, ducking down past Mr Potter's room and reaching the large window in which let in a river of moonlight, my shadow dancing upon the walls.  
>Hastily, I concealed myself behind one of the floral curtains, waiting until Potter was no longer looking behind him suspiciously, for me to continue to follow.<p>

From the window, I could see his shoulders slump, sighing and stepping into the forest, away from sight. I took my chance, creeping down the staircase and out of the door, slipping on an old pair of boots and making sure to shut it as quietly as possible, my teeth gritting together as the door clicked shut.  
>Nevertheless, I began to walk on the grass, pulling out my wand to illuminate my path.<br>"Potter?" I whispered entering the woodland where he was last seen. My feet brushed against the brown leaves that were dusted on the forest floor, new signs of life popping out from the undergrowth, getting more so as I edged further into the woodland. I peeked over my shoulder, becoming aware of the Potter house slipping away from view. "Potter? Are you here?"

It was then I heard a faint rustling, my head snapping around-yet nothing. Then on presuming it were perhaps a bird of some kind, I began walking again, aware of how deep into the forest I was going. He couldn't have gone much further than me could he?

Another twig snapped.  
>"Potter!" I whispered again "...it's not funny..."<br>Snap.  
>"...Potter?"<br>A feeble fear hit me and on instinct I began to run, jumping over a fallen down tree, pointing my wand out as I ran, making sure I could see where I was going. Once far enough away, I scolded myself for running away so quickly, questioning my courage. "You're a Gryffindor Lily, pull it together" I muttered to myself.

As my breathing began to steady, my heart rate nearing normal I found myself nearing a quaint stream that appeared to be the heart of forest, with many streams like tiny veins attached, ran off into the woodland. My eyes washed over the forest that seemed to become alive at night, a life of its own; an army of trees stood upright -soldiers if you must- and an anchor of moonlight that didn't shy away behind the trees. It all seemed quite tranquil. That's how I knew something didn't quite quite fit.

And there was the broken piece to my puzzle, there in front of me, drinking from the pumping stream making my own heart grow cold. A werewolf.

It raised its head, pausing slightly while it sniffed the air to confirm my scent, my calculations working out that even if I began running now it would catch me and...I couldn't even think it. It began to lurch itself up slowly, making its way over to me in a circular motion, as if we were in a saloon with guns at the ready, causing me to raise my wand; gulping in as much oxygen as I could to remember what it felt like-and cherish it. With its beady eyes surveying me, its gangly frog-like legs-that were full of power-pushed off of the ground toward me.

"Reducto!" I shouted a flash of light darting towards the creature. It dodged it seamlessly, my legs beginning to propel me away, jumping over tree stumps and ignoring the scratches from thorns that were penetrating my flimsy pyjama trousers. I could hear it nearing me, firing spells from behind, hoping that at least one of them would at least aid me in my attempt of escape. Being eaten wasn't really on my life agenda.

But from out of nowhere a strong pair of arms pulled me out of the way behind a thick tree trunk, causing the wolf to halter having to retrace its steps at the loss of its prey. It let out a deep howl, tilting its bony head upwards inhaling my scent. Its eyes snapped open, titling its head slightly as we both heard a new sound. One that had a distinct panting followed by the snapping of branches and one mighty leap, Padfoot – Sirius's dog- stood in front of the beast, his teeth bared. I gasped.

But the pair of hands put a hand over my mouth. I turned my head slightly, expecting to see a tuft of messy black hair and spectacles, not expecting to see a toothy grin, moth bitten hat and the patchy beard of Matthew McNolly. Furiously I struggled, but his strong arms held me down forcing me watch the showdown between the beast and Black's brave dog, already guessing the outcome.

The werewolf retracted slightly, swatting at Padfoot with ease while the dog bounced back and forth. It's hackles rose, growling once more and letting out a deep bark as another animal crept into view. A stag, bold and daring nudging the werewolf with its branch antlers. At this, anyone would think that the two animals would be destroyed by the creature, but as extraordinary as it was, the werewolf backed down after a little while, feeling cornered. Padfoot barked at the wolf twice its size and the creature howled bowing its head as the stag guided it far away, both animals attacking each time the wolf tried to resist.

I began to struggle again (once the animals were gone) to escape McNolly's clutches, jabbing him in the ribs until he finally let go. He yelped, raising both of his hands in defence.

"You're a feisty little blighter, aren't ya?"

"What do you want?" I asked, now raising my wand. But he was quicker, disarming me quickly.

"Now, now. None of that." He tittered sarcastically, as if he were one of my professors, mocking my age.

"I mean it." I growled, trying not to let my face show my surprise. "What do you want with me?"

He smiled, baring his gold tooth again while rubbing his patchy beard in thought. He edged closer, my first thought was to run but again, he was quicker dashing over to catch me, tightening his grip.

"I don't want no trouble." He said, much more sincere this time, the tone of his voice changing.

"What do you call this then?" I struggled, stomping on his feet. I saw him wince, but he still didn't let go.

I wiggled again, thrashing my arms about. He let go, this time getting out his wand.

"Don't make me do something I'd regret." He told me, raising his wand; his face now showing annoyance at my resistance.

"Then go home McNolly." I bravely shouted, causing a few birds to shoot out from the tree above. He began to laugh, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Very clever. Really, I mean it." He clapped "A smart one, figuring out my name." I stared, my arms tensing up ready to run if I had to. "But I bet you aren't clever enough to know where that sister of yours is right this minute?"

My eyes widened, seeing red as I brashly ran at him not thinking what I was doing while throwing repeated punches at him. He dodged all of them, but on the last strike I knocked him in the face. He threw his head back, holding his puffy eye.

"What have you done with Petunia?" I shouted at him, my chest rising and falling at my rapid breathing rate.

He still managed to smirk, but fell backwards into the ground. I hovered over him, anger still pulsing through me. It was quickly replaced by fear. As McNolly had fallen back, the sleeve of his robe slid up baring a bold symbol I had seen worn by a few dirty criminals in Azkaban, which changed everything. Before, McNolly was merely a grisly man, but now...now he was a death eater. That changed everything indeed.

"What?" he mocked "Shock you did it? Smart one didn't see that coming did she?" My mouth opened and closed quite mechanically. He got up, dusted himself off, picked up his fallen hat and placed it on his head, as though he were an English gentleman merely taking a stroll in the woods. He chuckled again, coming towards me slowly. "Now let's try this again shall we?"

He looked around him suspiciously for a second before, making his way over to me. I stepped backwards, trying not to show fear as he edged closer. I felt behind me, my back crashing against the tree stump meaning I could go no further.

He smirked causing me to grit my teeth together, wondering what spell he was going to fire as me next. But he didn't, he didn't go for his wand but merely dug into his pocket and pulled out a ratty piece of paper and stuffed it in my hand. He laughed again, pulling his bony finger to his lips.

I frowned, but before I could question him he ran off leaving me alone as if nothing had happened. And I knew why.

A subtle breathing was on my neck, followed by a ripping of the tree I had been leaning against. I shot around, clutching into the parchment as once again I had come face to face with the werewolf, the stag and Padfoot not far behind.

I didn't waste any time, grabbing my fallen wand and stunning it for a second, leaving me enough time to amble across the forest again, verging nearly on the edge of tears, scared and exhausted. I managed to get away running out the forest onto the the trimmed grass of the Potter household, the faint howling of the werewolf and the distant barking of Padfoot caused me to believe it was being taken care of. My mind raced and as I neared the Potter house, the light grew brighter, and then everything turned to black.

The next time I was awoken was by the vibrant rays of sunshine and the calm song of the birds, with my head safely rested on a soft white pillow, my eyes fluttering open, confused and with a beating headache.

Blocking the sunlight was the kind face of Mrs Potter, looking down at me, while dabbing my forehead with a wet towel, pushing my red hair from my face. I began to raise my head from the pillow.

"Ah ah ah. Don't even think about it." She told me, gently pushing me back down.

"W-where am I?" I stuttered, the room coming into view. It was much brighter than the room I had been staying in; with yellow floral curtains, and a large Victorian style white framed window being the only source of light. I tilted my head slightly to the side, enough to spy another person asleep in a bed across from me, coughing every so often.

"James?" I asked, remembering my previous mystery. "H-he was out there, where is he?" I asked frantically, remembering the gruelling night before.

Mrs Potter shushed me, easing my up gently to spy Potter opposite me, sprawled out on a red couch, glasses askew. Next to him lie Sirius Black, Padfoot not by his side. My eyebrows knotted together, feeling a heavy sadness creep over me as I thought the worst, finding myself to have become very fond of that dog. And over near the window, the last patient in the room was Remus, sound asleep.

"When did they get here?" I asked "Did they come to find James?" I asked. I noted that Mrs Potter appeared to be avoiding all of my questions. She smiled kindly at me, leaving me alone to rest, covering a blanket over the two boys and closing the curtains for Remus, causing him to turn over.

I sat up in my bed survey all three of the boys, how calm and less hostile they looked while sleeping as if butter wouldn't melt. It confused me, let alone shocked me to misunderstand how Potter was linked up to this whole thing. Why had he gone into the woods in the first place?

"Lily?" I heard Mrs Potter whisper, as she re-entered the room, sticking her head around the door.

"Hm?"

She gracefully walked over to me, digging into her skirt pockets and handing me a piece of wrinkly old parchment. She fiddled with her pearl necklace nervously as I frowned at the paper ball.

"...you dropped it when James found you in the garden. Don't know whether you wanted it or not." She smiled, closing the door behind her, leaving the room sort-of silent, with the occasional snore from Black.

My fingers fumbled round the parchment, unfolding each corners until I had it open fully. I scowled once I saw what was inside. This was what McNolly wanted to be kept such a secret? A bunch of badly drawn numbers and Roman numerals?

I was interrupted from my baffled confusion by a feeble hello from the bed across from me. I raised my head, and saw a sleepy hand waving at me.

"Remus! " I smiled, ignoring Mrs Potter's orders to not get up, and shuffled my way across the room, sitting on the end of his bed. As I got closer I noted just how sick he looked. His usually full face looked hollowed out and weak, covered in scars and bruises, his arms were thinned and had several small chunks missing and his voice was a little huskier. "Hey, are you okay?"

He chuckled weakly, as I helped him prop up his head, by dragging my own pillow from my bed and adding it to his collection, making sure he was comfortable, as he needed it much more than I did.

"All good Lily." He smiled, tugging open the curtains to let in a little light.

I frowned, watching him wince as he tried to reach for some water.

"Here." I helped, getting up and passing him some water, watching him take a sip, and then putting it back on the side.

"Thank you..." he whispered, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"What happened to you?" I asked gently. I had guessed off of my own back that he had been with James and Black last night, realising that this was more than a Marauder prank gone wrong.

"Tripped." He muttered, but smirked at my raised eyebrow.

"I'm not an idiot." I smiled.

A groaning and a thud was to be heard, turning my head to see that Potter had fallen off of the couch, with Black hogging the entire thing, now sprawled out clearly enjoying his sleep.

Potter put his glasses on, and raised his head, seeing me at the end of Remus's bed.

"Lily!" he exclaimed, scrambling up from the floor with several holes in his blue checked pyjama bottoms, and blood stains on his white v-neck. Nevertheless, he hugged me tightly, constricting my breathing pattern. "I thought you were dead!"

He held my face for a moment, as if he were checking that every part of it were still intact and unscarred.

"It's okay Potter." I smiled; he dropped his hands from my face and coughed awkwardly, before appearing to remember something and storming right over to Black, who was now drooling in his sleep.

"Oi! Give us some blanket would ya!" he tugged the blanket from under Black, causing him to spin all of the way around, his face now facing the seat of the sofa.

"How does he breathe?" I asked as we all watched as Black stayed sleeping letting out a huge snore before settling down again.

"Who knows..." Remus answered. Potter spied Remus, and grinned at him giving him a gentle high five.

"You feeling okay?" Potter asked him, full of sincerity. Remus nodded.

The door swung open, and all but Black turned to see who it was. Arms full of all of the food he could carry, Peter Pettigrew stumbled into the room appearing to be unscathed.

"Hey Prongs, you got any bagels?" he asked through mouthfuls.

Potter laughed "Sure Wormy." running off to help Pettigrew with his conundrum.

I turned my attention back to Remus, seeing his eyes regain some form of light at his friends. I spied one of gashes had begun to bleed on his forehead, so I bend down and grabbed one of Mrs Potters clean towels and dabbed it until it stopped bleeding.

"You're too kind Lily." Remus said, smiling weakly at me. I smiled, returning to my earlier suspicions. I was bursting to tell him some of my theories, and fortunately he figured it out for himself.

"What?" he asked, brow furrowed now looking worried.

"Would you be offended if I asked you something?" I found myself asking.

"Depends." He replied, the tension in his voice raising.

"Do you mind if I tell you my theory?"

He nodded slowly, waiting for me to continue. "Potter isn't the werewolf here, is he?"

Remus tensed up, but I then heard barking laugher from over near the couch. I saw that Black laughing his head off, taking seconds to breathe.

"Prongsy? Ha! You've got to be joking!" he laughed. Potter and Pettigrew re-entered the room, wanting to know what all of the fuss was about. "Eh, listen to this one, she thinks you're Moony!"

Potter let loose a small smile, handing me and Remus a bagel.

"I don't actually, Black. I am not stupid."

"I know that." Potter answered jabbing Black in the ribs.

"I just don't get how _you_ fit into this." I pointed to all three of the boys, other than Remus. "And you, shouldn't you be at least a little respectful for your dog!" I pointed at Black. Of course, this made him laugh harder.

"Evans, stop it, you're killing me!" he chuckled, wheezing his words out.

Potter motioned at Remus, my eye only catching a subtle nod between the two.

"Evans, we'll fill you in."


	12. Chapter 12 Roman Numerals

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 12- Roman Numerals**

Once I was informed about the reckless, dangerous and loyal antics of the marauders I couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions.

Part of me felt a utter debt was to be paid to both Black and Potter (and even unbeknown to me, Pettigrew) for saving me from poor Remus. But the more protruding emotion was one of awe. How was it that they were illegally animagus, and get away with it? Prior to my growing knowledge about them, I wouldn't think that they were smart enough to get close enough, let alone achieve their goal.

"So you are telling me, that you nearly get yourselves killed every month just to help Remus." I found myself saying, staring at their nervous expressions, all but Black who wasn't really paying a great deal of attention.

Potter hung his head slightly, twiddling his thumbs together as if he were a naughty school boy being told off by his mother. But as he began to defend his friends' actions, he was interrupted by an unexpected emotion I couldn't hold in, as I leapt towards him and hugged him. Voluntarily.

"Wh-"

I smiled awkwardly, and I drew away seeing Potter set his glasses straight, and try to hide a blush that was mirrored on my own rosy face.

"I think it's wonderfully kind." I muttered, hoping that I wouldn't have to say it too loud. I saw his stubby chin stretch as he beamed a smile, his hand going straight to his hair. Upon my eyes moving up to his head, his smile faltered removing his hand and putting it behind its back.

"Ha, sorry Evans. Forgot."

I turned my head to see Black, with his arms wide open, eyes closed and shuffling much to close to me than I would prefer. Potter smirked and rolled his eyes. He expected a hug too.

Thankfully, my-out-of-character action wasn't needed again; as Potter shoved Black in the arm causing him to fall onto his back, his eyes most certainly now open.

"What happened?" he asked. "Hey Evans, I was wonderfully kind too, where's my hug?"

Out of nowhere, Pettigrew appeared next to Black, with his arms wide open.

"I've got one!" he came closer to Black, causing his face to shrivel up and shuffle backwards, then run away with Pettigrew following frowning at his rejection.

"I better go save him." Potter began to get up, smiling at me before hurtling out of the door. A mixture of screaming and yells were to be heard next.

I turned my attention back to Remus, watching his eyes sink down to his chest, sighing deeply. His frustration couldn't be understood fully by someone like me, who hadn't experienced life's cruel hand; how he had to stay in bed for days , his gruelling transformation and the guilt he showed when his friends got hurt at his expense. But it couldn't hurt to try.

I got up from the floor once again, moving over to his bed and sitting on the edge, his eyes now lifting at the sight of some company. He smiled, as I began to help him sit up again, Mrs Potter coming in and out to change his bandages. While she was doing so, I took it upon myself to distract him, discussing aspects of school that we had in common, our interests and dislikes and even laughing about his friends bringing a much needed smile back onto his face.

"Thank you again, Lily." He began just as Mrs Potter left the room. "I really do appreciate this."

"It's no problem Remus." I smiled.

I passed him one of his favourite books that Mrs Potter had lined out for him, his eyes eagerly darting across the pages. As he did so, my fingers reached down into the depths of my pockets, feeling over the edges of the paper mass not sure of what I should be doing with such figures.

The peaceful silence between Remus and I gave my mind the option to etch round McNolly's actions again; how he had tracked me down and practically tackled me just to give me this ball of scrawled numbers. How he had been shifty yet arrogant and had even gestured that they be a secret between me and him. Yet I had no real intention to keep the secret, but who'd I tell? Potter? Would he even believe me, and think that I was perhaps delusional from the previous night's occurrences? The only person who had seen McNolly drag me behind a tree was Remus, but he couldn't possibly recollect anything, so it made me wonder did it even happen. Yes, it did-because I had the bruises to prove it.

"What have you got there, Lily?" I heard Remus's voice, causing me to snap out of my thoughts and try to regain a smile.

His book was laying face down, his eyebrow raised and waving his bandaged hand in front of my face.

"...Wow, you okay?"

I painted on a smile, crunching up the paper ball further into my hand in the hope that he would forget.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lied, fussing over his blanket, and making sure he had enough water again.

"I am not an idiot." He threw my own words at me, folding his arms and closing his book fully now. He had a lot more colour in his drained cheeks, yet as sick as he was, he could see past my exterior emotions. "What have you got there?" I pointed again, to my hand.

I sighed, opening my palm and unfolding the crumbled paper, and passing it to him, not sure of what he'd make of it. He studied it for a moment, his brow creasing and turning it over a few times, the blank back not showing any more signs than it had the many times that I had checked this morning.

"...What is it?" he asked finally, scratching his head in confusion. I smirked a little at the irony, how numbers should mean more to him than me, at the fact he was taking his work experience at an Athrimancer's office.

"You tell me." I laughed, getting up and pouring him some more water from the jug Mrs Potter had laid out.

"It's a bunch of numbers." He shrugged "Why do you have them?"

I shook my head, regaining my seat on the end of the bed my back now leaning against the wall. I looked out past the white Victorian frames of the window, over viewing the woodland outside of the Potter house, how different and less threatening it looked in the sunlight. Even beautiful.

Mrs Potter crept into the room, scolding Potter and Black who were outside of the door, trampling round the house and full speed.

"Catch me if you can Wormy!" I heard Black shout, a raspberry sound erupting from his mouth.

Mrs Potter poked her head out of the door. "Boys! No running in the house!"

"Sorry Mrs Potter!" was their reply, doing the exact opposite I had guessed by hearing the trampling sound go further away, and down the stairs. As Mrs Potter returned in the room, she was shaking her head -yet still smiling- while carrying a vase of flowers and placing them on the fireplace.

"These should brighten up the place a little for you Remus." She said, snipping off a few dead ones, leaving the many surviving lot to bloom and blossom, enlightening the room with the different shades of crimson, purple and white.

Remus crushed the piece of parchment back into his hand, smiled politely and asked "They're great flowers Mrs Potter. What are they called?"

Mrs Potter for one looked most delighted at the prospect of being asked about her flowers, her face lighting up, plump cheeks rising higher on her face.

"Oh, well there is a few Remus. See, these at the top are of course James's favourite, Lilies." She stopped, spotting my blushing face, my eyes averting her proud glow. "And the next ones are daisies and my personal favourite are the small yet purple looking ones, Petunias."

I looked up instantly, McNolly's words coming to mind, something I had shamefully forgotten as I had woken up. 'But I bet you aren't clever enough to know where that sister of yours is right this minute?'

My own answer replayed like an overused tape recorder straight after 'What have you done with Petunia.'

Like a rocket, I shot up legging my way out of the door and down the stairs. I rushed passed Potter, Black and Pettigrew all eating their way through the cupboard, ignoring their taunts and questions until I came to the stairs of the basement, clambering my way down them. With my fingers firmly round the handle, I unlocked the door and made my way over to the welcoming sight of the telephone. Quickly, I pushed past the cardboard boxes and tapped in my home-phone number while placing the receiver to my ear. As I heard the familiar beeping I begged someone to pick up.

"Come on...Come on pickup..." I chanted, jumping up and down and twirling the spiral cord round my finger in anticipation.

"...Hello?" I heard a female's voice, my mothers to be exact. I smiled realising how much I had missed her, but pushed aside my own selfish needs for the sake of my sister's safety.

"Hello, Mum? It's me Lily, is Petunia there?" I asked, trying not to sound too urgent, slowing down my heart rate in my attempt not to alarm her.

"...Yes, of course she is dear. Do you want me to get her?" my mother asked a hint of hope in her voice. Of course, I found myself thinking, she always has hope Petunia and I would reconcile. But this wasn't what this was about.

I heard my mother cover the receiver with her hand, my ears getting stronger as I tried to hear her words. A large sigh was to be heard next, followed by a high pitched cough, clearing their throat before the words "Hello, this is Petunia speaking." Was to be heard.

I breathed a sigh of relief, my smile beaming as I had never been so pleased to hear her voice. I found myself sniggering at her formality at answering the phone, her voice at least three octaves higher and my imagination lead me to believe that she had her nose in the air. The only explanation for this would be that Mother hadn't told her who was calling, as she would never put out so much presentation for me. Oh no, that would be beneath her.

"Hi, Petunia it's me, Lily." I said through smiling. I heard her make a funny noise through the phone, as if she were trying hold back the temptation not to spit right into the phone in the hope that it would hit me in the eye.

"Uggh, it's just you. I'll have you know I am waiting for an important call, so I would appreciate it if you would butt off of the phone." The voice returned to a normal state. From in the background I heard her talking _at _mother. "Why didn't you tell me it was just _her_?" She said her as if it were a forbidden word, a nasty and distasteful thing that left a bad taste in her mouth. I shook my head, expecting such attitude.

"Yeah, it's just me. I was just checking on how you were, sister dear." I brought all of my fake kindness out in one swoop, my sickly sweet voice seeping out of the other end of the phone like honey. Although it didn't fool her, not one bit.

"Cut the act freak, what you want?" she whispered harshly into the phone. I smiled, despite after all of these years it still hurt, but knowing full well that either one of my parents must have still been in the room. My father had forbidden the use of the word 'freak' when not in my favour, so much so that if she used it, her elephant boyfriend Vernon would be out of the picture. Even that wasn't enough to stop her. And as mean as it may be, I egged her on to use it, wishing that the hateful boy would indeed be booted out of her life.

"I am only checking up on you." I answered quite factually, trying to get my sincerity through this time.

I heard her sneer "Yeah right. Why would I want you to do that?" And with that, the phone was put down and all was in my ear was the monotone beeping that quite easily described mine and Petunia's relationship. Estranged.

I shook my head, and placed the phone back, huffing to myself. At least she was alive and at home. This led me to feel confused wondering what on earth McNolly had meant. Clearly it was an empty threat, feeling another wave of relief wash over me.

Abruptly, the door of the basement threw open, with Potter of the other side rushing towards me.

"Evans! Are you okay? What happened?"

I nodded, sitting down on one of the boxes with my head shaking back and forth.

"I ran into McNolly last night." I came out with it, not caring whether he believed me or not any more, then watching his face change.

"You what?"

Each and every one of us had taken our own look and the strange and confusing numbers on the piece of parchment. As we all sat on the floor (minus Remus who still lay on the bed) the mood had changed drastically after I had told of what I knew; McNolly's existence as a death eater.

"So, does anybody have any ideas?" I asked, as we all watched the simple piece of parchment that lay in the middle of the floor, as if it were to jump out and savage us right that minute.

Remus reached out his hand from the bed, Potter passing the parchment as we watched, for the millionth time as Remus scanned the numbers again.

"Maybe he's crazy." Black stated and then rolled his eyes as if he knew so. "Those folk who join You-Know-Who have to be anyways."

"I have thought that too, but just it doesn't sit right." I replied, looking at him for the first time he had been truly serious all day. That didn't sit right either.

"Well, so far there are 8 numbers." Remus counted, and recounted to make sure. "And 4 are roman numerals."

I held my hand out, Remus passing me the paper. My eyes scanned over, reading again, the numbers not changing since the last time:

**0 IX 0 IV 1 IX 7 VII**

"Do you know what they all say?" I asked Remus, all eyes moving over to him again.

He nodded. "In order they say zero, nine,zero, four, one, nine, seven, seven." He said simply, as if it _were _simple. "But why I couldn't tell you."

Potter perked up, pointing to me. "Is it a phone-telly number?" he asked, in all seriousness.

I smiled a little, looking at Remus who had a bored glaze over his eyes. I knew he was bored of correcting him so I didn't it for him.

"No, I don't think it's a telephone number. There isn't enough for one with a location number, but too many for a local number." I frowned.

Potter shrugged, looking to anyone else for ideas.

Black shot his hand up, as if he were in class, causing me to point to him as if I were McGonagall or one of the other Professors."

"..Err, Yeah?"

"Can I have a look?"

"Umm sure." I replied.

Black shrugged and pushed his hair aside with a grin as if he had just figured out the way to steal the Mona Lisa. I passed the paper to him, as he shifted round the numbers a bit creating a different order. "There."

Underneath he had made his own order. The only difference being the last 4. He had joined them together.

"What?" I looked at them again, not sure of what he had done.

"Look." He pointed. "The end numbers together read the year."

I held the piece of paper up to the light. So they did. Before the numbers simply read separate numbers but now together they read the year; 1977.

"Oh my gosh." I muttered now staring at Black. I wasn't alone, the entire room had their eyes firmly on him, shocked at how he had figured something so simple that the rest of us had been thinking way too deep about.

"I am smart you know." He stated as if it were an known fact. "Being un-smart gets you more girls though."

Potter punched him in the arm, clearly impressed. But be it the numbers or the getting girls scheme I wasn't sure.

Remus sat up himself for the first time all day, reaching for the paper. I handed it to him again. He scrawled quickly, his usually clean-cut handwriting distorted by his cut hand and his excitement until he finally beamed as he lifted up the page.

"It's a date. Padfoot, you were right. It's a date, the numbers are a date!" he exclaimed.

I smiled at Black, his proud mixed with a cocky expression was to be seen by all.

"Wait till everyone hears about this. I figured it out before both of you!" he got up, and did some funny little dance. Potter and Pettigrew joined him, making me laugh at their reaction to accomplishment, quite how they would act after winning a Quidditch game. I looked over to Remus, expecting to still see the beaming smile on his face, but was shocked by the game changer. His face was confused and sincere.

"Remus, what's wrong?" I asked, coming over to him, and perching on the bed like I had done earlier today.

He frowned, showing me the parchment that had numbers encircled showing the date; 09.04.1977

I looked up for a moment meeting his eyes.

"That's next month." I sighed, not sure of what this meant.

He shook his head, and pointed to the two middle numbers. "No, it's this month-as of today."

But what was to occur on the ninth of April I wasn't sure. But whatever it was, it was 8 days from now, like the original 8 numbers on the paper.

**Author note: Thank goodness for Roman numeral websites!**


	13. Chapter 13 The 9th

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 13: The 9th**

It's been 7 days. 7 days of pure uncertainty, as though all of us were all walking on glass barefoot. 7 days of fighting and squabbling. 7 days of constantly checking the date, and finally 7 days of working my skin to the bones, with Moody sending me on pointless errands. The number 7 had never been so unwelcome, that was until the 9th arrived.

"LILY!" Potter called through the crowd, his arm peering out of the top of the moving crowd as I saw him being taken away with the tide. "GO! GET OUT NOW!"

Slow motion.

Its funny when you read or hear about people dramatically saying that time slowed down in those first few seconds, living becoming the only thing that you really see, not the impractical or selfish ownership of items that you once yearned for. It's funny how you see them as being overdramatic, rolling your eyes at the text or screen and considering that you would not feel the same in the situation. I had, on previous terms been one of these people, but as the red bonnet of the mustang flew barely past my face, brushing the tops of heads in the crowd and toppling into the side of one of the houses, I saw every inch in a gruelling and very saddening slow motion.

I could tell you every detail. Every detail how I managed to stay paralysed as muggles thrashed past me, red tape pulled over the scene- screaming and yelling, Potter being swept further and further away and how all of the houses of neighbours had been abandoned, being left to see the outcome of the murder.

Then I saw _his_ face, the face of the man in the background-the one you never see. McNolly casually standing at the side, arms folded with the obscene grin of pleasure smeared all over his pathetic face. No, that part is where everything began to take speed to a new level, time consuming each and every second, laughing at me as I found my fingers around McNolly's neck, my wand firmly pressed into his throat.

But, I suppose if the 9th were to be told as it happened, I should really start at the beginning. Where most things start I suppose.

I drummed my fingers on the bedside table, anxiously watching the clock as time began to tick on, the tiny hand of my watch barely reaching the 12 as the a large ring came, signalling the arrival of a new day. I got up, enduring the creepy silence of my room and daring myself to peer out of the window, to watch the dim breeze sweep across the tips of the trees, a few leaves roll along the floor, with the loudest sound being my own constant breathing, chest rising to the fall. I looked at my watch again. So, it was officially the 9th.

"Did I miss it?" the door creaked open; a groggy yet eager face peered through the gap, letting in a flood of light from the hallway.

"Miss? Miss what." I sighed, checking my watch again. Potter copied, sitting on the end of my bed and shutting the door behind him, his legs crossed and leaning against the wall with his eyes slowly shutting.

"We've got all day, Evans. If it's going to happen-whatever it is- I doubt it will happen now." He muttered, not seeing my brow began to crease, my chest deflating in defeat and flopping on the bed next to him.

"I hate this."

"This?"

"Waiting for the unknown."

"Oh." He muttered, as if it were an obvious reply. I hadn't planned to watch the ninth day of April roll in, my original plan being to wake up at my normal time, and progress in the day as usual; however with Black's constant undermining thoughts of destruction and Remus's logs of uncertainty; the idea of watching it roll in seemed more and more appealing. Well, appealing wouldn't be the correct term.

Potter dug into his pyjama bottoms pocket and unveiled a packet of Bertie botts every flavoured beans with the top of the brown bag rolled up and passed them to me, setting his askew glasses straight once more. I smiled, glad of a distraction and dug my hand into the bag, closing my eyes and carefully popping one into my mouth, one eyebrow raised in anticipation.

"What's it taste like?" Potter dared ask. Even with my eyes shut I could tell he was smirking, not sure of whether I trusted he and Black hadn't purposefully taken out the good ones, leaving the utterly terrible ones for later. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before. However, once the juices of the bean began to fill my mouth with delight, the distinctive taste dancing on my tongue I began to smile, my eyes flickering open to see Potter trying to decode my expression.

"Cherry." I swallowed, passing the packet back. Potter surveyed my face, my only reaction was to stare back suspiciously, tracing the small inklings of stubble that had grown on his face, up to his shiny glasses and even his hazel eyes that were now heading towards the bag.

"Ah ah ah. No peaking." I scolded, the corners of my mouth turning up as he began to smile, closing his eyes and digging into the bag and retrieving a strange almost pale peachy coloured one, before throwing it into the air and catching it in his mouth. I cringed, knowing exactly what flavour he had pulled out, clearly remembering what Marlene's first reaction to it was therefore anticipating the bomb.

After a few seconds his eyes flicked open, winced together and then upon gagging he pulled a disguised face and finally swallowed, looking utterly appalled. I couldn't help but look most unsympathetic.

"Holy Crap." He burst. "Uggh, what the—" he began to swear, before walking out of the door, and returning with a toothbrush wedged into his mouth, minty foam coming out of the sides. Of course, my laughter wasn't at all appreciated. After going out of the door and returning, looking a lot happier, he then chose to take it out on me. "You."

"Me?" I pointed, stifling my laughter as he came towards me, pointing at me as though I had committed a crime.

"What was it? Come on Evans; tell me what I just tasted." He came closer now, sitting on the bed, interrogating me. If he knew me at all, he'd know that wouldn't work, I shook my head, arms folded.

"Guess."

"Tell me!" he whinged, then leapt towards me his fingers tickling my underarms and feet causing an uncontrollable laughter to escape my throat, pleading for him to stop whilst swatting him away. "Tell me Evans, I know you know!"

"N-No!" I rolled away, shoving a cushion in his face, to which he dodged, throwing it back into my own face. It hit me square on, my reflexes failing as I fell back, sticking my leg out sending Potter down with me, both of us landing in a heap on the floor, chuckling.

Slowly he stopped, moving his fingers to my face and stroking my cheek, my smile now faltering, unsure of what was going to happen, or better yet how I would react. He smiled, moving his eyes around my face, clearly watching my expression change as he slowly leant forward and—

"What's going on in here?"

Potter and I scrambled up from the floor, as Mrs Potter turned on the lights, her eyes squinting, clearly not able to see very well in the early morning. I quickly shifted my eyes sideways, noticing the very strong blush that had arrived on Potters cheeks, and as I had guessed his hand was in his hair. I however, busily moved to the bookcase in my room, rummaging around for a few seconds before thrusting a book into Potters hands, ignoring his raised eyebrow and whispers of confusion.

"Nothing." He immediately answered his mother. She didn't look at all amused, arms folding over her long pink nightgown, now surveying the room that had remnants of beans spillages on my bed.

"Here you go James. It's that book you wanted." I plucked out a lie, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach as I realised how easy the lie had come, coming to the conclusion that this was the result of too many days spent with the Marauders.

"Uh—thanks. I'll be..." he coughed clearing his throat and nearing the door. "...be leaving now." And then walked straight into the doorframe, and finally out.

"Bedtime now Lily." Mrs Potter sleepily told me, making sure that I was inside my bed before she shut the door, my eyes pretending to be closed as I heard her shuffle away and mumble something to Potter.

As soon as she was far enough away, I sat up in my bed and pushed the last few remaining beans into the bag, spying another one of the peachy coloured ones, and without even thinking, I began to smile. I wasn't supposed to, and I knew it. It didn't in slightest help that I knew what Potter would have done if his mother hadn't have come in, but it still made me question how I would have reacted. I wasn't supposed to feel like this towards him. It had been two weeks, and in those two weeks I had quickly become fond of him—so much so I would have before classed him as one of my friends. Now...now I was worried.

My thoughts were interrupted by the slight sound of tapping at my window, my hands fumbling for the light and seeing a plump, yet rather raggedy owl sitting on the window sill, its feathers much too dark to be any owl I recognised, holding an envelope between its beak. Suspiciously and not without caution, I made my way over to the window sill, pushing the latch open and the window up and letting the owl hop inside. Closer and upfront, I could tell it were much bigger than any owl I had even seen, its eager's ears sticking up with its bright yellow eyes watching my every foot step. My hand reached out dodging its biting, managing to pull the letter out and unfolding it to reveal a crumbled piece of parchment that I recognised.

"...What?" I muttered to myself, feeling hopelessly confused as the bitter owl squawked its disproval and flew out the window, my shutting of the window being my reply. I lie down on the bed again, looking at the piece of paper and running my hand through my messy red hair trying to figure out why it was familiar. Without warning, it hit me that I realised that I was holding the missing muggleborn birth records, with one of the names encircled in red. I turned it over automatically, and in an untidy scrawl there was a message reading; 'You're Welcome.'

Working in the Auror office for your work experience has many equal opportunities. It gives you time to practise duelling, help you interact with influential people and know the minds of criminals inside and out. But most of all, it gives you the opportunity to blackmail Cassie into telling you where a certain muggleborn may be.

"Kevin who-what?" Cassie asked, taking the paper from me. I hadn't mentioned to her why we needed this name, nor actually handed her the missing records but written it down on a separate sheet.

"Kevin Hawks. Not who-what." Potter told her.

"I knew that."

"So, do you know him?"

Cassie smiled, putting her feet upon the table once more, her eyes narrowing.

"...I might."

I moaned, checking my watch again, noting the time. No matter what the time was, we really didn't have time for anything.

"Cassie, seriously. Do you know who he is, or someone who might know who he is?"

She frowned, raising her arms in defence as to slow me down, shaking herself off as she got up and walked out of the door. Helpful as always.

"Cassie?" Potter yelled after her in disbelief, as he ran out of the door to follow—my only choice was to copy.

"Come on slow coaches. I'm not waiting for you." Was her only reply, as she headed over to a desk far down the corridor and leant against it, batting her eyelashes at the man behind it.

"Name?" he drawled, not looking up from the desk, a self-writing quill aimed at the ready.

As I caught up, I saw Cassies eyes roll and she leant on the desk with her elbow.

"Oh come on Bill, it's me, Cassie."

The man named Bill looked up, his balding head reflecting the light, his face changing once he saw who was speaking to him, his chest deflating.

"Oh." he asked, now looking fearful. "What?"

"I need a favour, that's what."

"Why should I?"

"Because you owe me. I saved your butt remember?"

I hadn't a clue what on earth the strange looks between the two where, Cassie clearly holding something over this poor man, and him looking utterly terrified. Bill sighed, nodding as Cassie told him the name we needed, his actions becoming shifty as he quietly headed to the back, and into a room in which was entitled 'No un-authorised personnel allowed' and reappeared after a few seconds, handing the parchment to Cassie and resuming his position on the desk.

"Never to be mentioned." He then warned Cassie, her reply to smile inanely at him before handing me the parchment and brushing her hands together in essence of a job well-done. As we were walking away, I took a long look at the address of Kevin Hawks, the encircled name on the records.

"What do you need this for then?" she cornered me at our entering of the board room, us being the only ones in there.

Potter jumped in. "We can't tell you."

There was a few footsteps, and a muffled talking of two women, as they peered into the room all three of us becoming silent as they continued to pass through, glaring at Cassie.

"What is up with everyone here hating on you?" my mouth moved, unaware of the words that were pouring out.

"Not the question here." She counteracted in one breath, slipping the parchment from my hands and holding it a height that was only a few centimetres above me, missing the point of the action. Cassie's own height wasn't much taller than my own, so on my highest toes I could reach and take it back, raising one eye brow at her.

"We still can't tell you."

"Is it shifty?"

I lied "Not at all."

Her eyes narrowed even further, and her fingers dug into her pockets as she shoved a purple star shaped clip into her hair, stopping her spiky locks from falling into her face. Both Potter and I knew that Cassie wasn't stupid, the reason why she had been employed in the auror office was because of her instincts, but there was no denying that she was ditsy. But how ditsy was the _real _question.

"Fine, I'll let it slide because I'm not your mum. But if I was..." she put two fingers to her eyes, and then back at both of me and Potter indicating that we were being watched. I smiled at her as my gesture of thanks, Potter and I walking in a line and away from her, hoping that she wouldn't follow us.

When we found and arrived at the address of the so called Mr Hawks' residence it was as you'd expect. He appeared to live in a long line of houses, all with rather large front gardens, the bushes a little frayed but still managed, post box full of letters, oh, and a cat that circled between your legs begging for attention.

"So, tell me again why we didn't bring along Mooney or Padfoot?" Potter asked, scratching his head and looking up at the sky as dusk rolled in, the sky a bursting with a low blue and orange hem.

I turned to him; a non-discussed-yet-still-there agreement between us to not bring up this morning's events had passed, my now returning to normal behaviour.

"Because, its better less people come so less can get hurt."

"But-"

He was silenced by a door of one of the houses opening, both of us ducking behind a garden wall as an older lady peered her head out, looking from side to side. I watched as her face lit up, and a car -I noted as a red mustang- drove up on the road and a young man who looked around about in his mid-twenties stepped out. He held his arms out as the woman came tottering out, her small height meant her white curled hair touched his chest, the two of them hugging. I found myself smiling at the presence of these two strangers, catching a small smile that passed between Potter and I, him trying to hide it, to regain his manhood...or so I guessed.

"Kevin, dear. I am so pleased to see you." The woman said her rosy wrinkled cheeks lowering as she looked around again. "There have been some strange men sniffing about, this afternoon."

The man named Kevin shook his head, his centre parted mass of stringy hair stood off of his face, and his strong chequered jumper that could have matched the woman's were almost laughable. I unravelled the address again, putting a face to a name as this could only be our man. Kevin Hawks.

"Mum, don't worry about it. They're probably just looking to sell you something." He patted her on the shoulder and led her inside, tutting as she looked around one last time, causing Potter and I to shift back a little to just make sure we were unseen. We took a sigh of relief as the door of the house clicked shut.

"So, we have found him. Do we get a medal?" Potter said in all seriousness.

"If that's your way of asking what happens now, I don't know the answer."

"I thought you always knew the answer."

"Not guilty." I shook my head, ignoring his taunts as I scanned the street once again for a sign of these 'strange men' the apparent Mrs Hawks had been speaking of. "Whatever _it_ is has to happen soon though, so we'd better wait."

And wait we did. We took turns of playing I spy, rock, paper, and scissors and even laughed about this morning's Bertie botts incident to which Potter was less than amused. As the night time crawled in, Potter and I were bored stiff, my checking of the time indicating that in a few hours the 9th would be over and all of this would have been for nothing. The idea that this could have been a wild goose-chase had occurred to me in the previous week, but as always it didn't sit right. McNolly seemed deadly serious when he has forced me to take the numerals when I had met him—that being the only solid evidence I had.

"Hey Evans..." Potter began after a while, pushing up his glasses again.

I turned my head, and pushed my hair behind my ear. "Yeah?"

"About this morning..." he began, his hand going straight to his hair. "I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable..."

My eyebrows rose, searching for any in-sincerity within his frowned expression.

"You don't have to apologise. I was as much to play a part."

His face began to screw up; unsure was written all over his face as he began to talk. "...Yeah, I know, it's just I felt that I didn't want that to ruin our friendship...I mean, you've hated me for so long, and don't want to go back there again..." he trailed off, looking ashamed.

I faced him fully this time, both of us sitting on the gravelled pathway behind a wall; leaning against it for support was how far we were going to go to wait this thing out.

I sighed, looking up at the sky for some support—to look anywhere but in his eyes. "...I never hated you..."

He looked up now; it was his turn to search for some sincerity in my voice, showing that I actually meant it. I wasn't lying, of course. I felt just as ashamed as he did for admitting it, but it was true. Hate wasn't a word I reserved for Potter. Yes, I had many a time loosely used it toward him, but hate was mainly reserved for those like McNolly.

All of a sudden, I felt the hairs on my back stand firmly on end, my head turning towards the door of the Hawks household. There, in the pathway in front of us stood the black cat that had been so friendly towards us and without any warning at all it began to grow bigger, stand on two feet and stretch itself into a man. From across the street a woman joined him and they both ambled their way towards the wooden door of the Hawks' and knocked, waiting for a reply. Potter and I were on our feet, the feeling of dread filling me a gallon at a time, anticipating whatever movement.

The door of the house opened, Mrs Hawks looking startled as the man and woman pushed past into her own house and a frightful screaming and yelling were to be heard next, objects breaking and a fleeting glass breaking until they had Kevin Hawks in their grasp, holding him down while he kicked and tried to wiggle free.

"Let's go-" Potter began, his head spinning round as I grabbed on to him, willing him to go out at the right time.

"Don't do something stupid." I muttered, not sure when we would be needed.

"He needs us."

"He needs us not to get killed." I counteracted like a bullet, causing him to lower down again. I could feel he was itching to get out a fight, but my suggestion had caught him off guard.

"Kevin!" Mrs Hawks shouted, tottering out of the house and hitting the man and woman with an umbrella.

"Mum!" Kevin called. "M-Mum, go back inside." He called.

The woman pushed him out into the street, her face melting a falling in the drain as short blonde hair and business suit disappeared into a tall, lanky lady whose bone structure was one of a starved dog, her long lifeless hair came down her back as did the long piece of hair that covered one of her eyes. The man altered his appearance, also slithering down into a broad figure, a square jaw with teeth that could barely be called teeth they were no miss-shaped.

"Say goodbye to Mummy." The broad man chirped, waving at the feeble old lady who stood no chance of defending herself.

The broad man whipped out his wand, and pointed it at the old woman, Kevin much quicker, pulling out his own and flashes of light were to be seen in this very ordinary street. Kevin dived in front of his mother, pushing her inside as he duelled with the two death eaters.

"I can't just sit here." Potter told me through gritted teeth. I didn't say anything as he got up, his wand at the ready and dived into battle with the dog-faced woman.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" she asked, her light eyes showing confusion, looking to her duelling partner for advice. He was much too busy, and Potter stupidly fired spells at the dog-faced woman.

Kevin ran out into the street and hit behind a few cars, each one of their windows smashing as he ran between them, the street being filled with cars alarms and now scared and frightened muggles who were coming out of their houses to see what they were never meant to see.

"Potter." I growled, pulling my own wand out, as a few more death eaters apparated in, cornering both Kevin and Potter, the two of them back to back, ready to fight. I joined them in the centre, coming face to face with the in total five death eaters that were not afraid of killing.

"I don't know who you are, but I suppose I have no choice other than to trust you." Kevin said to both Potter and I, not taking his eyes off of the death eaters.

"Vice-versa."

It was a full blown battle, spells were fired in every direction, as people screamed and shouted. A spell hit a car in the street; it blowing to bits as people ran away screaming.

"Three, two, one." I heard Kevin mutter to himself, darting away as all three of us ran in different directions, I chose to dive behind a different wall, crouching down as I barely dodged a flash of red light.

"Didn't expect him to _have_ friends." I heard the woman cackle to her counterparts. "Suppose it makes it more of a challenge, though!"

"Ha, hardly a challenge." The broader man answered. I felt him getting closer, but I fired a spell, causing him to fly into one of the cars. He swore, shaking himself off and as I peered over the top of the wall I began to run again, watching as he tried to figure out where I had gotten to.

A crowd of people began to cluster in the street, sirens and screams from people scared and confused, muggles from other streets coming to see what all of the fuss was about.

"Ahh, come to enjoy the show?" another one of the death eaters called, and there was a flash of green light and an innocent muggle dropped dead. So did my courage.

And you know the rest.

"LILY!" Potter called through the crowd, his arm peering out of the top of the moving crowd as I saw him being taken away with the tide. "GO! GET OUT NOW!"

_Slow motion._

_It's funny when you read or hear about people dramatically saying that time slowed down in those first few seconds, living becoming the only thing that you really see, not the impractical or selfish ownership of items that you once yearned for. It's funny how you see them as being overdramatic, rolling your eyes at the text or screen and considering that you would not feel the same in the situation. I had, on previous terms been one of these people, but as the red bonnet of the mustang flew barely past my face, brushing the tops of heads in the crowd and toppling into the side of one of the houses, I saw every inch in a gruelling and very saddening slow motion. _

_I could tell you every detail. Every detail how I managed to stay paralysed as muggles thrashed past me, red tape pulled over the scene- screaming and yelling, Potter being swept further and further away and how all of the houses of neighbours had been abandoned, being left to see the outcome of the murder. _

_Then I saw his face, the face of the man in the background-the one you never see. McNolly casually standing at the side, arms folded with the obscene grin of pleasure smeared all over his pathetic face. No, that part is where everything began to take speed to a new level, time consuming each and every second, laughing at me as I found my fingers around McNolly's neck, my wand firmly pressed into his throat. _

"Make them stop." I seethed. "Do it. Make them stop."

McNolly laughed, splitting at me. "Or what?"

Then there was an ear-splitting screech. I dropped my wand from McNolly's face and looked between the crowds to see that the worst had indeed happened.

Kevin Hawks was dead.

"That concludes today's show!" one of the death eaters laughed, clapping his hands as dog-face scolded them, and they apparated out. I flicked around, seeing McNolly look, for once in his life disappointed, moving over to me and shrugging, before apparating out also.

The sirens were now even closer and an ambulance and several police cars swooped into the scene, and tape was placed around the dead bodies as people were calmed down and collected to the side.

I stood motionless, unable to even try to hide my wand as I felt an anchor of guilt set sail in my body, barely noticing people point toward me, and several police officers run over and pull me aside. They dragged me and Potter together.

"You are being placed under arrest for the murder of Kevin Hawks. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

It didn't hit me until me and Potter were being pushed into the police car head first, that we had been just been arrested. Arrested for killing a man we were trying to save.


	14. Chapter 14 Jailbirds

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 14: Jailbirds**

"Miss Evans? The detective will see you now."

I flicked open my eyes, in the hope that where I was and what I was here for each time would disappear when I reopened them, each attempt failing. I was (each time I looked) sat in a prison cell, with my head leaning against the wall watching Potter scuff his shoes on the floor in the next cell, while we waited to be interviewed for murder. Me, Murder? Those are two words that should _never_ have been put in once sentence.

I raised myself off of the strange white board that they called a bed, and waited while the guard unlocked the door. Potter spotted me and came rushing over to the bars.

"Evans, just tell them the truth. You can do that...right?" he quickly told me, putting his arm through the bars for support. I squeezed his hand for a second before being pulled away by a guard twice the size of me, at least two more waited by a grey door while they placed me inside and forced me to sit on an uninviting chair. My fingers began to tap against the white table that matched the contents of the room—all white except from the large hollowed out window that meant I could be watched at all times.

I waited there for about a minute, the little red hand of the clock bouncing round the face of the clock, my fingers drumming faster, my knee joining the race as it bounced. I wondered what they'd ask me, or how they'd go about it...or even if they'd believe me as I pleaded innocent. Would I be able to cope with a life in jail? Of course not. And as the bald headed, pot bellied detective cockily entered the room, he knew it too.

"Miss Evans." He read aloud from a notebook, and creaked into the chair opposite me on the white table. From his pocket he drew a dark, very rusty looking tape recorder and put in a tape. My heart began to race as his finger pressed the little red button, his eyes watching me as I bit my lip in my attempt to calm myself. I was very much full of failed attempts this early morning. I suppose that's what spending a night in jail does to a person. "This interview begins at 9:05am. So, Miss Evans, could you please tell me of the events that happened on the 9th of April."

I looked straight ahead at the table. Just tell them the truth, I reminded myself. You're innocent Lily.

"Well..." I wobbly muttered, clearing my throat. "I was in the neighbourhood with my friend James and-"

"Why were you in the neighbourhood?" he stopped me, leaning forward on the desk.

My eyes widened a little, pausing as I came up with a reason. "I was just taking a walk with James."

The detective, who -by now I had managed to read the name tag on his chest could be noted as Detective Lewis- raised one eyebrow, and nodded with his lips pursing.

"So tell me Lily, why were you taking a walk in the area? When...by my calculations..." me looked at his notepad and waved it at me. "...your current address is very far away from here."

I gulped.

"We were...we were coming from visiting James's Gran."

Detective Lewis nodded, seeing straight passed me. "Okay...so you tell me what you think happened the night you and James Potter killed Kevin Hawks." He said it so bluntly, in a way that even I would believe we had in fact killed him. I shook my head, leaning forward.

"We didn't. I swear. We were just in the neighbourhood, and we saw Mr Hawks fighting with a man and a woman and we came into help. We thought he was in trouble."

"So there was another man and woman?" the detective didn't sound surprised, merely wiped it on to humour me.

"Yes. We tried to help him, but we were too late..."

Detective Lewis nodded slowly, shoving his hands into his trousers pockets as he rose from his seat, walking around a little.

"Tell me, Lily. This man and woman you speak of, what did they look like?" he said man and woman so loosely, like he was talking to a child who had just broken her mother's vase and had blamed it on her imaginary friend.

I thought back, remembering the night before, how they had changed appearances more than a few times but still remembered the last appearances they had taken place in.

"The woman was taller than the man, but she was tall as he was broad. She had long dishwater blonde hair, wore mostly black and had a very strange bone structure, while he – as I said was broad- and had crooked teeth."

Detective Lewis raised both of his eyebrow. "So, what did they kill Kevin Hawks with then Lily? Because there wasn't any visible wounds, any gunshot, no blow to the head."

What could I tell him? I could tell from the animated expressions and extra cartoonish voice he used, that he thought I was making it up as I went along, so adding the sentence 'They killed him with wands, Sir' wasn't going to make any difference to my case. Witnesses had told him that it was me, so who was he going to believe?

"I don't know, Sir."

He sighed, smirking a little as he leant back into his chair. But no sooner had he done so, there was a knocking at the grey door, making him growl as he angrily stated "Interview postponed at 9:13 Am." and walked over the the door and went out, slamming it behind him. For the first time in a few minutes I breathed, scolding myself for not holding it together as I would have liked. I had in a strange way, told him what had happen. Granted I had left out a few minor details, but for his benefit disclosing those were the best I could do.

He re-entered the room, his ego looking dramatically deflated as he sighed. "You can go Miss Evans." And held open the door for me. I frowned, looking back to the tape recorder and back to him and his overhanging belly.

"But-But haven't you got more questions?"

He shook his head. "You're done. Someone is here to clarify your role that night."

I scowled even harder, not sure what he meant. I got up shakily and headed slowly out of the door, and craned my neck out. It didn't take me long to see what he meant.

Coming out from hiding was the vaguely familiar face of a small white haired woman, her eyes sagging and a change of clothes were not in order, still wearing the same chequered jumper from the night before. I didn't expect the face of Mrs Hawks to show anything other than sorrow as she grimaced—her way of thanking both Potter and I for attempting to save her son was by merely giving her word to the detective. And that, by any standard was enough.

"Where's James?" I asked immediately, spinning round to see him being led down the corridor of the police station by the same two burley men, his hands fumbling with the hand cuffs which were still around his wrists.

"Alright, you're free to go." They grunted at him, Potter tapping his toes against the floor impatiently, the key of his handcuffs clicking and him rubbing his wrists at the red marks they had left on his skin.

"Lily!" he spotted me instantly, jogging over to me and held my shoulders; checking that every inch of my face was still intact, smiling and of course my returning of the favour. He was all there; his deep hazel eyes, tall lanky figure, his slightly crooked nose from the amount of knocks in Quidditch the same, his jets of black hair and of course his wonky glasses. The only difference being the amount of bruises he had down his arm, his blue t-shirt slightly tainted with his own blood and the dry wounds from battle lingered on his face.

"What happens now?" Potter tried to ask, but we were shooed out of the station. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, the ability to see the grimy roads and rain filled skies of the outside world had never been so appreciated.

The scene was nothing like anything I had ever seen in my entire life. The once simple yet beautiful atmosphere of the quiet little street where the former Kevin Hawks spent his childhood had been obliterated and disturbed as an active crime scene. There was yellow and black tape taking out chunks of the road, with several police officers roaming the area, their eyes scanning over the horizon while they checked each and every inch—including several of the houses surrounding the large X in which lay in the centre of the road where the presumed murders were declared to have happened.

A few cameras and several reporters stood outside of Mrs Hawks' home, chattering amongst themselves whilst looking for any sign of life within the street that they could feed on like vultures.

"Come through here." Mrs Hawks murmured, taking us through the back gate of her house, deceiving the reporters and police, walking straight through her kitchen and letting us sit down in her comfortable living room. Try as I might I couldn't help but feel my throat condense as we entered the small cosy living room, the oak brown fireplace holding many photos of a young Kevin Hawks, looking free, happy and very much alive—the light holding a permanent resistance in his grey eyes. After bringing us some tea and a tray of biscuits, Mrs Hawks joined us on her pink sofas, cradling one picture of her son like a baby in her arms, smiling to herself as tears began to form in her eyes.

"...Mrs Hawks, if there is anything we can do..." Potter trailed off, the silence between the three of us becoming thick smoke taking the remaining oxygen away, not one of us having touched the biscuits she had laid out and feeling very out of place.

"There is...actually." she muttered so quietly, but the silence made it much easier to hear as she smiled a little, ushering us to follow as she creaked up the wooden carpeted staircase, both of us following awkwardly.

As we reached the landing, I became aware of how much this quaint little house reminded me of home and how dark it looked despite the pink cherry blossom trees in which were spread across the wallpaper, the pink leaves stretching their way behind a white door that Mrs Hawks entered. Although I was last, I could see even from the hallway what light the room she entered emitted and once I had entered, even more so. The morning rays hit each and every part of the cluttered and curious room, the walls were covered with old newspaper clippings—and for the first time in the house there was evidence of magic within the room with moving portraits and clippings from the daily prophet pinned to the muggle clippings. Stacked upon a desk was a little black notebook with a very precise scrawl and there were papers all over the floor of different drawings and such.

"So, this is...?" Potter dared ask Mrs Hawks as she placed the photo she had been cradling on the desk.

"This, this is what I need you to look at for me. Its Kevin's study."

"Kevin's study?"

"Yes...well, when he stayed here. He'd spend hours at that desk writing and sketching. Clever boy..." she trailed off into a small smile, seeming as if she had forgotten we were there at all.

"So what would you like us to do?" It was my turn to speak for the first time, her eyes looking over me as if I were most familiar. But why I didn't know..Before yesterday I had no idea who she was. And today? I was learning.

"I would like to know why _him_. Why they chose _him_. I am not one of you but I did know a little. I need someone who is familiar with all of this." She gestured to the rooms contents.

Potter and I exchanged a glance, a strange silent conversation passing between us. We both had an inkling of why Kevin Hawks was murdered. The first being he was muggleborn. Secondly, he was muggleborn.

"Mrs Hawks..." I began, my voice escaping me as I struggled to continue. How could I break the news to a woman that her son had lost his life purely for his blood status? For being who he was. I felt Potters hand slide into my own, my hand choosing not to thrash away as needing it for moral support, but he finished the sentence off for me. A debt I now owed him.

"Mrs Hawks, do you have any idea who Voldemort is?" Potter finished for me, my eyes widening at his use of the full name.

Mrs Hawks frowned, I could see the clogs turning in her brain as she breathlessly repeated the name over and over on her lips as if this would bring some familiarity.

"I-I think so. Well, barely." She admitted, creaking down into the chair by the desk.

Potter looked up to the sky for some support then back down at Mrs Hawks. "Do you know that he has opposition against certain blood statses in the wizarding world?"

She shook her head.

"I know that he is very dangerous." She sounded like a child that minute, not the frail old lady who sat in her place. She continued to stroke the photo of her son.

"You see, your son, he was classed as muggleborn in our world and..." Potter paused, he was trying to compose his voice—I could tell that much. It was my turn to squeeze his hand and take over.

"...And Voldemort-" I paused, feeling a strange hint of power at being able to murmur his name. "-Wants to eliminate anyone who isn't pure wizard blood."

She took it in for a moment, repeating our words to herself as she stroked Kevin's smiling face once more.

"They took his life because he wasn't a pure wizard?" she finally asked in disbelief. "But he was a wonderful wizard, very clever and a wonderful asset to-" her voice became higher.

"-I know. From all of this stuff we can tell he was a wonderful addition and hard worker. He would have made a difference." I tried to tell her, to ease her into a sense of security that I myself wasn't sure if it was false or real. Either way, it was helping.

After a while she began to speak again. "I...I just want you to look through some of this stuff. To see if any of it could be any help." She began to rose from her seat, shuffling past James and I and stepping on the first step of the stairs before turning back and narrowing her eyes. "Why did you help Kevin?"

Although I wasn't prepared for an answer to give her (given I didn't really know what to tell her) I managed to know exactly what to say. "Because he needed help."

She smiled a little, another token of her thanks and she creaked down the staircase leaving Potter and I to look through the contents of the office.

I wasn't entirely sure what this was going to prove, as we both knew the reason he was killed but I knew that as a mother, Mrs Hawks wanted a substantial reason why her son was killed, not some flimsy excuse. The unfortunate thing was that there would never be a good enough reason for her son being taken from her, so in a way, whatever we would find wouldn't make a difference.

"Hey, Evans?"

Potter interrupted my thoughts, him having moved from my side and standing over near the desk having jumped over the stack of papers and was now holding the small black book.

"Hm?"

"I think you ought to come take a look at this."

Potter turned the book around and over the small double page spread of the book was a very detailed, and precise sketch of the two death eaters that had killed him the previous night. He had them both to a T, the structure of the dog faced woman's cheek bones, to the shoes that the broad man had been wearing.

I took the book gently from Potter, flicking through the book and as I looked further in it continued to make no sense. There were detailed drawings of the entire night in there, even showing his red mustang fly past a girls face and into the bush, a black cat and a body lying on the ground.

"He knew it was going to happen." I muttered flicking through the book.

"Yeah..."Potter scoffed darkly. He then took the book out of my hands and flicked right to the back. In an instant his eyes opened much wider.

"What?"

He thrust the book at me and pointed to the image. There on the page was a man with dark hair, yet his eyes were rather snake like and his nose had formed into strange slits. His eyes were inked in as being red and his fingers were bony and skeletal. Yet, you could still make him out as a man.

"He drew _him._" I knew exactly what he meant, gawking at how even rough sketch could send shivers down your spine. Potter continued to flick back in the book, his head shaking in disbelief. "He has a tonne more."

But as Potter laid the book flat out on the desk, he stopped on a certain page that scared me more than the frightful images of Voldemort or the distinctive events of the night before. There, on the page was a scruffy sketch that could be made out to be a two people sharing a kiss. Funny that those two people looked _too_ much like Potter and I.


	15. Chapter 15 Seer?

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 15: Seer?**

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><p>My fingers brushed over the edges of the little black book, my fingertips tiptoeing their way across the the dusty pages, but each time coming to rest on the detailed black scribbles that formed the kissing couple. As the sunlight began to create a small gap between the dismal clouds and peep into the window, I found a smile that began to crawl over my lips, seeing the sketch-for the first time- in a different light. Whether it in fact be the sun or my constant reminder of the sordid events that were constantly growing among the wizarding world, I couldn't help but feel that this was the one token of happiness throughout the entire book. The rest were filled with those of a depressing nature, making me push it aside for a few minutes, or to lift the mood, Potter and I would occasionally share a smile. Simple, yet effective.<p>

We had to have been sifting through Kevin Hawks' papers for over an hour, my leaning against the wall had made my legs become numb, and Potter stripping the walls of their not-so permanent wallpaper, reading them and jotting a few things down.

"Found anything interesting?" came the feeble voice of Mrs Hawks. Both of us turned to see she had changed out her chequered jumper, and now was wearing a knitted dark blue one, that had the initial of a K embroidered on the sleeve in a sunshine yellow stitch. She returned my smile, wringing her hangs together in anticipation, only for us to have to tell her something that she didn't want to hear.

"Nothing yet, but we will keep looking." I smiled. At the dropping of her gaze I got up, and began to show her a clipping and tried to sedate her curiosity by attempting to feed her some more useless information about her son's collections, bringing in his name every few sentences. Of course, as I had guessed this made her beam, glowing with pride at her son's collection being of 'use' and shuffling away back downstairs.

"Evans, this could take days." Potter whispered, adjusting his glasses and letting a large sigh escape into the room.

I flopped down, and began to help him wade through the articles, noting the edges had all curled up.

"I don't disagree."

"The only interesting thing we have found so far that is relevant is the drawings, but I doubt she would want to know..." he began to trail off, stretching his neck over my height and out of the door, probably to check Mrs Hawks was defiantly out of earshot. "...that her son knew he was going to die."

"But what about all of this other stuff?" I opened the book again, ignoring the last few pages and found another sketch, but this time it was of a dog and a stag, standing in front of the legendary foundation in the ministry. "It looks like you two are guarding it."

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Us? How do you know it's us?"

Despite the situation we were in, I smiled at his defensive tone. "Oh please, have you ever seen a shaggy black dog and an insanely large stag roam around together before?"

"Stranger things have happened."

All of a sudden, there was a large frantic knocking at the front door. Yes, this afternoon had been filled with many sounds of knocking at the front door, Mrs Hawks ignoring the crowded archway of journalists who were making a stand, wanting to talk to her every five minutes. But this knocking sounded much more hurried, almost like a persistent drill.

"Go away!" I heard Mrs Hawks shout from down stairs.

I frowned, Potter joining me as we edged to the landing and peered down the stairs.

"Is everything okay down there Mrs Hawks?" Potter asked, hanging on the banister.

"Everything's fine dear, just go back to reading." She called back. Potter and I exchanged looks, the knocking getting louder now. We began to creep down the stairs, hearing the stairs wince as we took each step, almost as if they were groaning. "I said go away!"

As we entered the living room on the right, we saw that Mrs Hawks stood at the large bay window; the curtains now open and was flapping her arms and the journalists who were snapping photographs and yelling for her attention. But amongst all of the suits and briefcases, being squashed against the window was a bright hair that didn't look in the least happy.

"Cassie." I muttered.

Potter and I ran to the door, cracking it opened for Cassie to squeeze through, flapping at journalists who tried to fight their way in.

"Animals!" she yelled at them, bashing them with her palms, and even with a shoe that didn't match her own. Once she was inside, she sighed and dusted her hands and wiped her brow, Potter and I pushing the door shut.

"Who are you?" Mrs Hawks asked shakily, holding an umbrella at arm's length-her choice of weapon.

"Cassie Cameron. Pleasure." She curtsied and then spun around, waving her finger at me and Potter. "Liars."

"What?"

"You told me you weren't doing anything fishy, and then BOOM!" she use her hands for effect "I turn the dial on the tele-whasit at my muggle friend Kelly's house and what do I see?"

Potter and I turned to each other, shrugging.

Her eyes got wider, if possible. "You two on the freaking news. THE FREAKING NEWS."

"News?"

"You were ARRESTED for murder! Murder!" She began to pace. I took a moment to observe her, her hair that I was sure had red in it a few days ago had now been changed back to a shade of blue. She wore a long skirt, combat boots and a band t-shirt I couldn't make out.

"But we didn't do it. I swear."

"Duh." She rolled her eyes.

"Hold up, Hold up." Potter paused the situation, frowning at Cassie. "What are you doing here?"

Cassie looked at him like it was obvious. "Your Dad sent me."

If it were possible, I probably would have turned to ashes right then. I hadn't thought what my parents or Potters parent's would say. If what Cassie had said was true -we were on the muggle news channel- then my mother would be worried sick.

Begrudgingly, Potter and I collected as many of Kevin's papers as we could into a bag and after Mrs Hawks many pleads, we promised to bring them back in addition to much better information with it. It was the best we could do with being hurried by Cassie. And after we were ready, she had to rub salt into the wounds.

"Oooh. You are in so much trouble, so I'd advise..." she rummaged in her bag and pulled out what I could see as a sieve and placed it on Potters messy set of hair. "You wear this for protection."

* * *

><p>"One of you has to talk eventually."<p>

And that's what I was afraid of. Mr Potter was a man who had to have interrogated many criminals in his time, seeking out their weaknesses, and playing out the scenes of the crime until they cracked. And if that didn't work, then the other option would to use a potion. But I wasn't the only one to hope that the latter wouldn't have to happen.

He sighed, leaning on his desk, Potter and I separated across the room in big red armchairs, while Mrs Potter sat in the middle, reminding him every once in a while that we weren't criminals. However, he would disagree.

"They got arrested, dear."

"But they are innocent."

"That could be disputed." Mr Potter looked a lot better from the last time I had seen him. Although, yes he did have a very pale complexion and stumbled from time to time, he put up a good fight. "Well? If you don't tell me what is going on, then I will go and get that potion."

I can then shamefully recall that I was the one who cracked.

"Okay, okay."

He raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to continue. We had been sitting in for almost two hours, with neither Potter nor I saying a word about what had been happening, but after the threats of pulling me out my auror office position, taunts of potion creation and bringing my mother into it, I couldn't take it anymore.

I regrettably looked over in Potter's direction, him shaking his head and pulling his finger across his neck—a notion that I should stop before I started. But that didn't quite reach my mouth in time.

"Well?"

I got up, pacing across the room, not sure where to start.

"You see, it started..." I paused, looking at Mrs Potter for support. I knew where this whole thing had started. With the muggleborn birth records. But whether Mr Potter would remember that due to his...well...condition, I hadn't a clue. Any mention of it usually didn't go down very well. "It started with the muggleborn birth records."

"Lily!" Potter exclaimed across the room, his father silencing him with a stern glare.

"Continue Lily." He didn't take his eyes off of his son.

I quickly took a deep breath. "We got sent this date, and a list encircled with Kevin Hawks' name on it, so we went to find him (not really sure what we were going to find) and then...then we failed to save him from a gang of death eaters."

Potter's eyes widened, my own remaining the same. I hadn't, as he had expected told him the entire story, some, yes, but left out certain details. Why? I didn't really know.

"Very well." Mr Potter nodded. "Do you have such records with you now?"I dug into my pocket, the records sticking out of it, and handing it to Mr Potter. There was in fact, no hiding those.

"Da-"

"James, this is out of your hands now. You should have come to me or Moody as soon as possible. We shall take it from here." Mr Potter scolded his son, nodding at me and unlocking the door with a wave of his wand, leaving Potter and I to trickle out.

We made our way across the hall in silence, getting to my bedroom until we began to speak.

"How come you didn't tell him about McNolly?" Potter didn't hold back.

"I don't know..." I sat down on my bed. "I can't really explain it. "

"Hey, I'm not complaining." He bent down, and slid his hand under my bed, producing the little black book. "I'm surprised Dad didn't order a pocket search."

"Well, it is a sure sign he is recovering."

Potter rolled his eyes. "It means he will be watching us like a hawk from now on."

He then chose to flip through the pages again, and as he did his brow began to furrow, his head tilting.

"..What?"

"How do you think he knew what was going to happen?"

"Who? Kevin?"

He nodded, studying the image.

"...I don't know..."

We left the thought to rest, taking out the papers we had ferried from Mrs Hawk's house and spreading them over the floor, going through them one by one, until finally, something came up.

"Hey." Potter patted me on the arm. "This guy keeps coming up in a few articles in the daily prophet. I think his name is..." he squinted at the moving image. "His name is Jerome Parley." I peered over his shoulder, seeing the lanky tall man holding a crystal ball, appearing to be talking to a room of children.

"He's a seer." I guessed from the crystal ball.

"And another one, here. " Potter held up another image.

"Why was he so interested in him?"

"Lily, the guy sketched his own death, who knows."

I ignored the comment, studying the moving picture again, holding up to my face. I hadn't voiced a thought that had been crossing my mind before now, but it was then that I decided there could be no harm.

"Have you thought maybe that Kevin was a Seer?"

Potter put down the piece of paper he was looking at and blinked. His frown deepened and his hand adjusted his glasses.

"But don't you have to have a close wizarding relative for that to happen?"

I scowled. "What's that suppose to mean?"

Immediately his hands shot up in defence. "I mean, I'm not saying that it couldn't happen, but all of the Seers that I have heard of, have had relations who are Seers. And for all we know, Kevin is a-"

"Muggleborn." I said it for him. "There are no rules that say muggleborns can't be Seers."

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have."

We shared a moment of silence, my defensive tone probably wasn't needed, but it didn't help that I wasn't entirely sure myself if it were possible. I knew that to be muggleborn, there were missing links of wizarding magic that randomly decided to pop up in the genes of a child. But by the looks of the black book, Kevin came from a line of very strong seer blood, being able to predict accurate events and from what I knew, seer blood would have to be passed on to be this strong. But Kevin Hawks was defiantly muggleborn. He had been on the list.

"Lily, look at this." Potter thrust another piece of paper in front of my eyes. It was of Kevin Hawks' birth certificate, and I followed Potter's finger to a place where the parents were stated.

"There's only one name."

"Jennifer Hawks. And..."

I squinted, trying to make out the blur that formed on the page.

"I-I think, but don't quote me here, it says Jasper. Jasper..." Potter looked over my shoulder and adjusted his glasses.

"No, I think it's more like Jonathan."

"Nahh, defiantly Jasper."

Purely by accident, my eyes dropped onto the moving image of the lanky man again, him now smiling at me. I opened the article fully, leaving Potter to continue to tell me that I was wrong, and scanned across the article, learning that this man was teaching the art of being a seer to young wizarding children.

"Could it by any chance be Jerome Parley?" I asked. That was the name of the man in the article. Jerome Parley.

Potter lifted his head, and then looked back at the birth certificate again. After rolling his eyes he said "Well, I suppose it could be that..."

"Then that would mean that Kevin Hawks wasn't muggleborn." I said, mainly to myself, forgetting for a moment that Potter was even there.

"...What?"

"But that can't be right..." I got up, pacing—my usual technique to fix things when my head rejected crazy thoughts.

"What can't be right?" Potter asked, scratching his head with confusion.

"The records said he was muggleborn. Mrs Hawks said he was muggleborn."

"But she didn't, did she?" Potter raised a hand, and waved it in front of my stunned face. "She merely said that he wasn't a pure wizard. And a bunch of other stuff about him being great..."

"Yeah, but she didn't disagree when I said he was a muggleborn."

He shook his head. "The woman lost her son Lily; she could have been spouting a tonne of rubbish."

I swatted him away, finding myself staring out at the sun setting at late afternoon.

"We need to go back. We need to ask her some questions."

Potter also chose to get up, raising his arms. "But what about the muggleborn records? Dad and his goons have them now!"

I turned to face him, the words coming out of my mouth seemed unfamiliar and distasteful on my tongue, but my taste for adventure beat it away, accepting them as they rolled out.

"Well then, we'll have to get them back then, wont we?"

**Author note: Hello, not entirely sure if I am right on the seer-muggleborn thing, so I just waffled a bit there. Hope it made sense :)**

**Ickleblueeyedwitch**


	16. Chapter 16 Hands of Colour

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 16: Hands of colour**

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><p>"How exactly do we plan on doing this?"<p>

Shrugging, face wrinkling and biting my lip was the only answer I could give, peering my head through the small gap between the wall and the door that lead into the office. There sat the large table which was currently holding an entire board room full of experienced Aurors who could knock us flying with barely the flick of a wand. It wasn't the best of situations to try and steal back the records, but with Mr Potter limping his way into work to keep a beady eye on us, this was probably the only moment we would get.

He sat at the end of the table –Mr Potter I mean- quite like royalty, the rest of the Aurors taking note of his every word, a large chalk board behind him with the white chalk writing key notes by itself. I couldn't help but notice the familiarity within the situation, how alike it was to being in a classroom, the other Aurors pitching in to the lecture without raising their hands, the occasional joking from a few and of course in the corner there was one woman who looked remarkably similar to me in school, never taking her eyes or quill off of the paper.

My thoughts didn't take long to diffuse away, a large cough was to be heard from behind us, both Potter and I freezing, my face screwing up into a wince.

"Hm, I wonder where my two work experience trainees are. Oh yes...SLACKING." I felt a hand on my head, and it be forced to turn around and face the smirking carved expression of Moody, one of his eyes on Potter, the other on me.

"Err..."

"We-we were..."

He shook his head, letting us go and pushing past, his body like the trunk of an oak tree knocking both of us sideways. Potter dragged me aside, but before he could pull me out of sight, Moody had both of us by the scruff of our necks and was bringing us out of hiding and into the lime light. It was like shining a light into a rabbit hole for a fox.

"Found these two hiding outside."

Potter sheepishly waved to his father, while a small blush crept up on my cheeks, looking downwards to avoid eye contact. But on hearing a large sigh escape from Mr Potter's mouth, I raised my eyes, seeing him tapping his foot and shaking his head. He looked shattered, but he had fought his way into work this morning, ignoring his wife's orders to stay in bed, and proving Potter right, he was now watching us. Like a hawk.

Moody also wasn't particularly happy with both of us either; despite being top dog, he had been scolded for not keeping a better eye on us. So, all round we were not particularly popular.

"Sit."

Mr Potter pointed to the spare chairs that were littered in the corner.

"Sorry?"

"If you are going to get the best experience of being an Auror, you better sit down. It might make the both of you grow up a little."

A little spark of rage bubbled up inside me for a minute; at being told to 'grow up a little' didn't please me, not one bit. If anything, this experience had made both Potter and I look differently at the world, the amount of near-death experiences we had had these last few weeks had made us age considerably. It was just as well I didn't act on it.

We hung our heads, doing as we were asked and sat on the chairs in the corner, letting Mr Potter get back to his lecture with Moody looking much to pleased with himself, taking his place at the table.

"What? So they're allowed in here, but I'm not? Seriously?"

Everyone turned their heads to the door to see where the muffled voice had come from, seeing Cassie pressed up the the small glass window at the door. She struggled for a moment, prizing the door open and making her entrance as dramatic as she could, pointing at the glazed over Aurors who looked happy to have a distraction. The only exception being the lady who had previously been immersed in her work, but was now glaring at Cassie.

"What is _she_ doing here?" the women asked.

"Penny, so _good_ to see you." Cassie bared a grin, opening her arms wide and coming towards the women who she had named as Penny. Penny's face crumpled up flapping her away.

This, if anything amused Potter more than anything else, seeing Cassie worm her way into the room and seamlessly able to annoy everyone in it was a talent that not many people possessed, and one that Potter admired. Seeing his Dad squirm was something.

In an instant, Mr Potters face lit up watching both of us from the corner of his eye, he gained Cassie's attention.

"Cassie, could you do me a favour?"

Cassie stood to attention, saluting him and saying "Yes, sir."

Mr Potter smiled, a smile that could only be described as Potter-ish, that same spark and smirk often worn by his son.

"Could you keep an eye on those two over there."

"Sure!" she smiled back.

But Mr Potter didn't smile back this time, only held her broad shoulders and looked her directly in the eye.

"I mean it Cassie, you need to never take your eyes off of them."

* * *

><p>"Uggh, is she asleep yet?" Potter whispered, his hand propping up his head as we sat in Moody's office, watching as Cassie's eyes began to drift shut.<p>

I swatted him quiet, Cassie's head flopping as finally she drifted off to sleep.

"Let's get going."

We made our way out of the office, creeping down the corridor until we came to a much too familiar door that stated the name 'Mr Potter' carved into the plaque. Touching the handle, Potter carefully eeked it open, wincing as we both slipped through and shut it behind him.

"We don't have long, so we better get moving." He reminded me. As if I needed reminding.

Opening draws, looking through papers, opening cupboards and even looking through the rubbish bin didn't get us anywhere, spending longer than necessary trying to find where Mr Potter had hidden the records. It was unlikely that they were with him, but at the same time it was unlikely that he would keep them in an obvious place.

"If you were your Dad, where would you hide them?" I muttered to Potter, seeing him raise his head and shrug, adjusting his glasses and continue to shuffle through a draw. This being the most unhelpful response I could have received, I took it upon myself to think outside of the box. So, upon bending down and looking underneath the desk, luck struck me and there, was the crumpled piece of paper flattened down and stuck to bottom of the oak desk.

"I've got it!" I exclaimed, reaching out and peeling it off of the desk. Strangely, as I peeled it off of the desk it became very wet and changed to a teal blue colour, depositing the strange ink onto my hands, staining them from the wrist up to my fingertips in the bright colour.

"What the-" Potter didn't have enough time to finish, the records themselves turning to blue jelly and flopping on floor with a squelch. They then proceeded to slide through the floorboards.

"I-I just had them. Honest." I tried to defend myself, becoming silent at hearing faint footsteps making their way down the corridor.

"Oh no. Oh crap." Potter muttered, grabbing me by the wrist, the blue ink now on his hands, and concealing us in the closet opposite from the desk. It was dark (as you'd expect) and rather small, these features being ignored as the footsteps got closer. My heart began to beat faster. Knees knocking together. Breathing distorted. Footsteps getting louder, until we froze. The door handle being prized open and a tapping of a foot. Impatience.

"Who's in here?"

I could barely make out Potters uneasy expression, a finger going to his lips as he reassured me, placing his hand in my own, and the other over my mouth. I could see his lips go blue in the dim light, them compressing together as he looked up, clearing listening for more movement, the movement that didn't come. Only until the closet was being filled with light, and the door of the office being slam shut.

I gently removed Potters hand from my mouth, watching him smile sheepishly and his hand go to his hair and back again, scolding himself. Although, I found that I didn't remove my hand from his as I creaked open the closet door and peered out seeing that we were once again alone.

"That was much too close..." I breathed, feeling the hairs on my neck fall flat, my guard fallen.

Although his face showed signs of worry, he disclosed them, grinning at me and finding his way out of the door, still holding my hand. It was then that I remembered the state of our hands, the way the blue jelly hand stained them. We shifted our way out of the room, peering out of the corridor in an attempt to make sure whoever it was had successfully made their way out of our reach, then making our way down the corridor.

"Hold on." I stopped, seeing the wooden sign with the common symbol of a woman, and let go of Potters hand, stopping him when he tried to follow. "Women's doofus." I pointed.

Potter rolled his eyes, turning right and entering the flapped door, disappearing behind it. I also pushed mine open, hearing it swing shut behind me, nearing the sinks and grabbing the soap and smearing it all over my hands. The blue ink came off nicely, and was washed away down the sink, my smiling at the proof drained, and drying my hands. Only, to my surprise it were to return as soon as they were dry. My hands were still teal.

"Lily?" I heard the muffled cry from next door, opening the ladies door to see Potter holding his hands up, and yes, they were also still blue, panic arisen on his face.

"...It was a trick. A setup..." I muttered. "It's so they can trace who was trying to steal the records."

If it could worsen, Potters eyebrows knotted together more solidly this time, not caring about the gender of the toilets and making his way over to the ladies sinks, rubbing the soap onto his palms and trying to scrub it off again only to come up with them still stained. We had fallen into the spiders trap.

"What do we do? He's going to find out it was us." Potter muttered, looking at the floor.

"Oi! You two, where the bloody hell are ya? A person rests her eyes for two seconds and-"

The door swung open and without much thought, I pushed Potter into one of the cubicles and shoved my hands behind my back, trying to look relaxed. At the door stood Cassie -for once silent – her eyes narrowed and was looking around the room suspiciously. She slowly walked towards me, looking me up and down.

My voice arose a little too high, "Hi Cassie."

She narrowed her eyes. "Where's Bozo?"

"Who?"

Cassie waved her finger at me and casually made her way over to the doors of the cubicles. As she turned to face them, all three of them, one-by-one she kicked them open, coming to the last one, locked concealing Potter inside it.

"Got you." Cassie muttered, smiling darkly at my nonchalant expression, flexing her fingers and then kicking open the door. I held my breath, waiting to see Potter sitting with his feet up on the toilet, his cartoonish expression or even him running out of the cubicle, but as Cassie pocked her head in and her chest deflated there was no Potter to be seen. Not even his glasses.

"What were you saying Cassie?" I ignored my confusion, and put all my efforts into looking innocent and well...confused. I suppose there were to be no acting for that part. However Cassie appeared rather the opposite, her plump fists were clenched as she turned on her heel, but stopped at the door and smirked at me.

"I get it, if the two of you want to play star-crossed lovers, that's cool." She smiled devilishly, knowing full well that her saying it out loud made me uncomfortable. With this, she waved and made her way down the corridor.

As soon as the door swung shut, I hunched lower, looking for a pair of feet.

"...Potter?" I whispered.

"Boo."

I nearly jumped out of my skin, him appearing behind me looking most amused at my near-heart attack and the fraction of a second that my feet hadn't been on the ground. He didn't take kindly to my slapping of his arm. "Ow!" He whinged.

"Serves you right. Where did you go?" He tilted his head a little, shoving his hands into his pockets and smirked, (a proud moment for him clearly) and tapped his nose implying that it were a 'Secret'. I folded my arms. "So, what? You're not going to tell me?"

"Correct."

"But-But you disappeared! Out of nowhere!"

He stopped me, smiling at me clapped his hands at waved.

"Wizard Evans."

I followed him out of the door, feeling the moment of stupidity scuttle away, and remember what trouble we were in. How we were going to get this blue skin off of us was the main priory here, keeping our tracks hidden while he searched for the records.

"Where to next?" Potter asked.

I looked around, hiding my hands from passing by Aurors who didn't have enough time to blink, rushing past us and disappearing again.

"...We need something to cover our hands."

"Or..." Potter drew his wand from his pocket and pulled us behind a wall, and waved it. Immediately my hands and his hands became invisible. "Oops.."

"I want hands Potter. Blue hands is better than no hands." I reminded him.

"Alright, keep your hair hair on." He muttered, waving his wand again and they reappeared. 10 spells later and a few more colours later we were still no better, them having changed from invisible to green to pink and even we swapped hands at one point, and nothing. We still were at the same spot from when we had started.

"Gloves Potter. It's the only thing that is going to hide this mess."

"...Uggh but it's warm outside. How stupid are we going to look with gloves on in spring?"

"More stupid with blue dye on our hands."

After arguing about it for a while, and Potter trying a few more spells he finally took my suggestion and conjured up 2 pairs of gloves. One were skin coloured and the other were fingerless. My foot found itself on his foot.

"What?" he asked, putting the fingerless ones on.

"Hasn't it occurred to you that...I don't know..It defeats the point of the object? You can still see your hands!"

He then took them off, mocking me. "Well, someone took a swig of the sarcastic juice today didn't they?"

Finally, we got there, both us us wearing a pair of black gloves and we strolled back into Moody's office, with the idea that we were going to have to come up with another way to steal back the records. As predicted, Cassie was sat in there, her feet propped up and she was reading a copy of 'Witch Weekly', looking most pleased at our return.

"Finished have we, Romeo?" She quipped, shutting the magazine.

"What?" Potter played it off, taking a seat in the red chair that he had been before.

"I know. I see everything."

"Sorry?"

She put her hands up again and smiled. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

It was another ten minutes before we were allowed to leave the room, us sitting there ignoring Cassie's taunts and jokes to herself, my looking around the room. I took time to notice that Moody's office wasn't much different to Mr Potters, the desk in the same place, the same closet. But there, amongst a bookshelf, was a box full of scrolls, scrolls that looked remarkably like the records. But there were so many. Too many, at least one thousand in the box. But, it was the only lead we had. Was it possible that our record list was in that box?

**Authors note: I have turned them partly into Avatars...or Smurfs..It could be disputed. Both are blue.**

**Anyway, hope you liked it.**

**Ickleblueeyedwitch**


	17. Chapter 17 Good as Gold

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 17: Good as gold**

* * *

><p>After the 10 minutes were fully over, the clock able to reach its final destination; the door of the office creaked open with a pair of black over-shined shoes tapping their way into the office, accompanying their master. He surveyed the room; the judgemental gaze falling on Cassie's propped up feet. Like a shot, she removed them, throwing the magazine that had once gained her full attention to the floor, acting as if she had been paying full attention to Potter and I, something that we knew would be a lie. There was no question whether Cassie would reveal that we had made our way out of her clutches as our little disappearing act wouldn't only affect us, but her as well. That was something that we hadn't thought of, and in some ways unfortunately the least of our worries.<p>

"So, have we been good?" Mr Potter halted, tapping his foot, towering like a mighty skyscraper over both of us in the red cushioned chairs, craning our necks up to frantically nod our reply. I certainly didn't trust that I could lie well enough to prove our innocence, but Potter? It would be a second nature if you gave him the chance, but on the darting exchange I threw him he kept quiet, following on command.

"Good as gold can be sir." Cassie grinned, her plump cheeks rising and managing a salute.

Mr Potter's eyebrow cocked up, surveying the room for the last time, before guiding Potter and I to follow, our goofy thumbs up to Cassie went unnoticed as he drifted out. But this wasn't exactly what was ideal, leaving the room while a pile of untouched scrolls lie in Moody's office, the real records possibly hiding under our noses. Not forgetting the touch of blue that had stayed –for now- under wraps, the gloves not being the topic of conversation as of yet. And frankly, that was just how I liked it.

Following Mr Potter back down the corridor I elegantly placed my hands behind my back, smirking at Potters copycat actions, his looking less impressive as he gave up halfway down the hall, huffing as he shoved them him his pockets sluggishly. We let Mr Potter wander ahead a little for there to be just enough space for the sound barriers to not reach his ear before we began to speak.

"How are we planning to get back in there?" Potter whispered through smiling-his choice of acting.

"We'll think of something...just...just sit tight."

He scoffed, his eyes spinning at my lack of memory. "Evans, please. A Marauder doesn't merely 'sit tight'. Nothing gets done that way."

He began to walk at a faster pace, my delicate motions of discrete behaviour abandoned as the fear that he may do something Potter-ish crept up behind me again.

"Don't do something stupid!" I hissed.

"Hm?" Mr Potter chose to halt at that moment, Potter and I colliding into him like bowling pins. He turned to face me, his eyes narrowed at the slightest. "Sorry, I didn't catch that?" he asked suspiciously.

My hands immediately fled behind my back, Potter hands not come away from his pockets, acting with much more poise and calm than I apparently was. But wasn't that always?

"I-I was just saying to Pot-I mean James not to do something stupid." I replied honestly. I didn't have to lie if it wasn't necessary.

His eyebrow raised, his mouth curved at the corners. "Oh? And what stupid thing would my boy being doing today that couldn't distract him from his work might I ask?"

"Yeah Lily, what was I doing?"

I looked at my feet, cursing under my breath at Potter's apparent moment of unhelpfulness, my brain working at my mischievous capacity to conjure up a story. I thought back to a few moments ago, then my feet returning into view as I spotted my laces on my black shoes were untied remembering how Cassie had placed her feet upon the desk.

"...He tied Cassie's shoe laces together." I replied at late, my voice raising higher as I managed to get to the last word, eyes searching for any hope that he would believe me. We were not the best at covering our tracks, as probably guessed.

Of course, as if on cue Cassie whistled her way out of Moody's office and with Potter finally stepping in to be helpful, he distracted his Dad by yelling;

"What's that over there?" and pointed. As Mr Potter head was turned, I dug my wand from my pockets and thrust it backward behind my head, not looking to see the spell that had shot out of the other end, only hearing the screech and thump where Cassie now lie on the ground. Her shoes laces were now tied together...courtesy of me. This gained his attention, an undeserved scowl now being directed at Potter as he rushed over to help a flailing Cassie (who I had guessed had seen the antics) by untying her shoelaces. She made her opinion very clear, giving both of us a rude hands gesture while Mr Potter wasn't looking, mouthing the words 'I see everything' then returning to flailing like a baby seal when Mr Potter looked her way again.

"Nice one Evans." Potter murmured, holding a hand out for me to slap. I returned it, savouring the moment of freedom we had, Potter dragging me by the wrist as we made our escape from his father's eyesight once again. We walked at a medium pace down the corridor, turning into a sprint until we found a pillar to hide behind, waiting until Mr Potter and Cassie were away from Moody's office.

"How long do you think it will be before they coming looking for us?" I whispered to Potter, smiling.

"I'd say...round...about...now."

"JAMES!" his father's roar from down the corridor. "JAMES, GET BACK HERE NOW!"

"...Sorry...he sounds really mad." I pitched in, expecting to see his smile to have faltered, not really expecting to see Potter's face looking amused.

"JAMES POTTER!"

"Quick!" Potter whispered, pulling me down to the floor, the column shielding us with its shadow acting as a protector. Mr Potter walked right past, looking quite annoyed at his sons 'so-called behaviour' and continuing down the corridor until we couldn't see him anymore.

"Let's move."

* * *

><p>"Can you reach it?"<p>

Potter was on his feet, arms out-stretched and tugging on the box of scrolls on the shelf, not quite tall enough to heave them down fully.

"All-most-there..." he winced, sticking his tongue out in thought, rocking the box back and forth.

"Careful!" I squealed. But it was too late, his constant rocking back and forth had back had made the the box move like a pendulum, flying off of the shelf and toppling over, with the contents spread all over the floor of the office. There had to be about 1000 of them –probably more- now laying in a pile, an avalanche of identical scrolls now flooded our feet.

"Be careful not to tread on them." I warned Potter as he stepped down carefully, trying hard to find the gaps in the floor where he could place his feet. There weren't many. I began to sift though the scrolls with speed, remembering the little tears and wears that were on our records, hoping that every time I picked up one, and unravelled it with my gloved hands that it would be our gem, but each time there was no success. Some even were blank.

Potter coughed, clearing his throat a little. "Hold on, isn't there a better way of doing this?"

Flustered and slightly irritable I raised my head. "How?"

"Wizard, Evans."

I tutted, my hands immediately flying to my hips, feeling my bouncy red hair lay over my shoulder, pushing it out of my eyes. "Don't you think I have already tried that?"

"When?"

"When we first got here."

"Maybe you didn't do it right."

It was my turn to scoff. "Says the boy who is currently failing charms to the girl who is passing with flying colours." He mimicked me, ignoring my protests and stated 'Accio' as if it were his idea in the first place, folding his arms and stupidly waiting for the scroll to land in his hands.

"What the-"

"See!" I gave him my signature I-told-you-so glance, him deflating like a balloon. "You didn't think that the man who used blue staining records would also charm the records to only come a certain voice?"

"Well, can't we change into my Dad? Use his voice?"

I shook my head, feeling as similarly deflated. "Polyjuice Potion take ages to brew and we barely have a few minutes. "

Just as expected, voices arose from the corridor causing Potter and I to begin to panic, sorting through the scrolls at an unbelievable pace.

"It's no good, we are just going to have to take them all and sort it out later!" Potter declared, beginning to stuff a few into his pockets.

My eyes widened. "Are you INSANE? They won't all fit!"

"Make them fit!"

Frantically, we both whipped out our wands, and thinking of the first spell that fell into my head I said "Reducio." Causing many of the scrolls to bounce like jellybeans, and shrink into tiny scrolls, enabling me to shove them inside my skirt pockets, shovelling them in hand at a time.

"I need you to find me those charts on the Mullingham case, and I don't want any dordling while you're at it, are we clear?" My ears perked up to the muffled conversation that was happening just outside of the door.

"Its Moody. Do something." I pleaded with Potter. He waved his wand, and all the rest of the tiny records slipped into his pocket and with another wave, the box flew back onto the shelf.

"Its empty!" I murmured frantically. I drew my own wand this time, directing it at the previous box full of records, and with a flick they were back in the box...well...if the spell had gone correctly, then they would be fakes.

Just as the door swung open, Potter and I looked once again in Moody's eyes startled; standing like statues in the centre of the room, still wearing our gloves. He looked surprised to see us, his fist clenching.

"Potter." He pointed. "That father of yours has been looking for you...said somthin' about Cassie and some shoe laces..." he began to smirk a little. Good to see that he had a sense of humour.

Potter bowed dramatically as if he were on stage, receiving a clap from Moody who looked most amused at the joke played on his protégée. I for one wasn't overly happy with how the distraction had occurred -thankful for one- but feeling guilty enough for humiliating Cassie. It wasn't something I was used to after all.

"What are you doing in here?" Moody finally grunted the question we hadn't really prepared an answer to.

"We-we were..." I began to stutter.

"We were...waiting for you." Potter answered like it was obvious.

"...Why?" Moody asked, moving us out of the way to get to his desk.

"We wanted to know if you are going to let us duel you." Potter made it up on the spot, even successfully portraying a hopeful-excited expression that I couldn't make out whether it was real of not.

"That's more like it. I like to see some guts in ya, ya up for it Evans?" Moody prodded me in the arm.

The day took its time to come to a elongated close, the duelling with Moody didn't go very well, although both Potter and I did manage to put up quite a good fight, it wasn't good enough to quite overcome Alastor Moody. After all, the man was a legend.

But it was dinner time at the Potter household that brought up new challenges for the both of us. Ones that were probably expected.

"Lily dear, do you mind taking of those gloves?" Mr Potter called from the dinner table as she was placing down the pie for dinner. I began to accept, pulling on the end of the fingers before feeling the warm touch of Potters hand on my arm, him shaking his head. It was once again brought to my attention that we still had blue hands. "You too James, this is not a petting zoo."

I threw Potter a panicked look, regaining my posture. I began to push away my plate and excused myself from the table. Mrs Potter frowned, the creases on her already lined forehanded deepened, her pushing back a few stray grey hairs.

"Is everything okay Lily?"

I glanced at Potter for a few seconds before returning her gaze. I had to lie again.

"Its fine, I am just not feeling too well. May I be excuse to my room, I think I need to lie down."

She began to also get up from her chair, coming over to place her bare hand on my forehead, looking concerned.

"Your temperature does seem a little warm...maybe you are hot. It would be a good idea to go and take of your jumper and gloves. I will come up with some medicine later. We can't have you missing out on the last days of work experience can we?" she smiled. I returned her expression, sleepily making my way up the staircase and into my room. After making sure the door of the room was shut, I quickly tipped out the contents of my pockets onto the draw beside my bed, wincing as all of the little scrolls bounced in. Next, I planned ahead; putting on all of the layers of clothing I had -sweating buckets- and sitting in bed, pretending to shiver.

After a little while, the door of my room creaked open, Mrs Potters smiling face appeared carrying a tray full of medicine and supplies, along with her son peeping behind her, making his way into the room also.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Cold." I lied.

"Poor thing. Here, take some of this." She carefully handed me a glass containing some concoction or another, my eyes bulging with an essence of curiosity and distain, knowing full well that if I was going to play the part, then I ought to do it some justice. I gulped, seeing Potter snigger behind his mother, and with that downing the juice in whole. It didn't take me long to figure this was a bad idea, the horrid, putrid taste began to writher in my mouth, making me cough and splutter. If I didn't feel ill before, then I certainly did now.

"Eggh, what is that?"

"I couldn't say dear. It's a recipe that we've had in the family for generations. I've got a little book somewhere..." she trailed off, placing a glass of water at my side and making sure I was comfortable. "Come on James, leave her be." She ushered him out, leaving me to myself.

Hearing the footsteps patter away, I flung off my bedcovers and thrashed open the draw and muttered "Engorgio."

Instantly, all of the records began to grow in size, leaving me to sift through them all by myself. At night. It took me nearly all night, with Mrs Potter coming in and out of the room every few hours to come check on me; my having to have to hide the records and then begin my search again probably elongated the time. But, finally after all of the searching, I unravelled the scroll almost missing the untidy scroll that I had come to know, and almost squealed with joy. I had the records.

"Sorry!"

I almost jumped out of my skin, not hearing the door creak open, but relaxing a little on discovering that it was only Potter.

"I've got them!" I whispered, waving them at Potter.

He grinned. "Nice. And nice sickey by the way."

"Shut up. I needed a way to make her let me keep the gloves on."

He shook his head. "She hasn't asked about mine, since she had been fussing over you all night. I suppose it's a win-win situation."

Without much of a warning, a large scraggy owl appeared at my window, its tapping seemed quite familiar and once opening the window and it spitting the letter at me, I recognised the owl and the handwriting on the note.

"Potter."

I felt him arrive behind me, looking over my shoulder.

"Is that his?"

I nodded, cautiously stepping toward the owl. I jumped back as it tried to snap at me, Potter shooing it out of the window and shutting it. I shakily walked through the mess toward my bed, sitting on the bed. Potter joined me, smiling encouragingly as he squeezed my hand and helped me tear open the note. It read:

_Losing records are we? How careless. Never mind, make good use of these-Better than the last._

Attached were another set of scribbled names, and this time two names were encircled in red. Two. Not one.

"It's happening again isn't it?" I barely could whisper, remembering our remaining deal with Mrs Hawks.

I glanced up, watching as Potter's jaw hardened staring at the paper, his eyes stiff and electrifying. It was like he was drawn to the page, in a trance.

"Yeah...but it's going to be different this time. We will make sure of it."

**Authors note: Here you go, another chapter! I hope you liked it.**

**Ickleblueeyedwitch.**


	18. Chapter 18 A Picture is worth 1000 words

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 18: A picture is worth a thousand words**

It was now nearing the end of April, the weather blowing a gale, throwing its weight around with the the laces of spring finely attached. Strange weather for this time of year. But it didn't tumble away the cloudless blue skies though, the only cloud being the one that covered my grey mood as I stepped through the wooden gate that had been off of its hinges since our last visit.

"Ready?" I was asked, my eyes moving toward Potter's nervous face.

"No." I managed to scoff, my feet moving at their own will, nearing the glossy red door of the far too familiar house, my fingers fumbling toward the circular doorbell and waited as the sound echoed throughout the insides of the house. Both of us took a step back as it began to open, the feeble face of Mrs Hawks coming into sight as she cautiously opened the door.

"Oh! Lily, James, welcome." She smiled, opening the door a little further now she was more sure, both Potter and I smiling at her and walking into her home. Like Mrs Hawks, her house hadn't changed one bit since last; the halls still filled with pictures of her son, the stairs still had that ghastly carpet down the centre but mostly it smelled of grief. It was as though the house itself was feeling the strain of holding all of the memories within, thus looking drab and producing that musty smell that only came from dust. "Have you found anything?"

I smiled, not sure of what message that would give her, putting off the conversation as long as I could by choosing to take a seat in the living room. Mrs Hawks tottered behind me taking her place in the single armchair. In my gloved hands were many of Kevin' drawing, his birth certificate along with the newspaper clipping of what we presumed as his father.

"Mrs Hawks..." I began, feeling reassured as I felt Potter sit down in the couch beside me.

"Oh, how silly of me..." She muttered airily, slowly getting up and making her way towards the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned, carry a tray of biscuits and a photo album, thick to the brim full of photos, many popping out of the sides.

"Mrs Hawks..." I began again as she let herself ease into the arm chair again. "Mrs Hawks, last time we were here you made us believe that Kevin was a muggleborn."

"Well, from my knowledge he is." I noted the change in tense in her words, talking about him as though he was still here. That was when I knew I had to tread carefully, aiming for a different angle.

"...You haven't told us much about Kevin's father." I smiled, talking one of the biscuits on the side—much too nervous to actually think about eating it.

She nodded, taking out the photo album in her arms and flipping it open, scanning the page until her finger paused on one of the images. Upon freezing up, she hobbled over and handed the album over to Potter, who shared the view with me.

"There he was." Her wrinkled finger placed on a black and white photo of what appeared to be a young Mrs Hawks, but what would have been beside her would have been a young man, but it was missing. Torn off.

My brow creased, my head rising up to see her face a little colder, still sat in the chair.

"We only were together for a short time, he even proposed don't you know." We let her reminisce. "But it didn't work out..." her head lowered.

"And Kevin?"

She smiled, touching her stomach fondly. "It was only months after he was gone before I discovered I was with child." She told us.

This made sense why she had never mentioned him before, but the question I still wanted answered was whether she knew he was a wizard or not. A reaction could tell wonders.

Potter gently took the clipping from my hands, jumped off of the sofa and sat perched on the arm of Mrs Hawks' chair.

"Was his name Jerome Parley by any chance?"

Mrs Hawks's eyes grew wider, shakily taking the clipping and image from Potter and staring at it.

"But-But-where is this from?"

"A wizarding paper called the Daily Prophet. "

Her mouth fell open, putting on her reading glasses that were only a few feet away, she began to read, becoming more flustered by the minute.

"I-I don't understand. He was so normal...so very normal..." she muttered.

Potter and I glanced at one another.

"You didn't know?"

"Not at all!" I couldn't help but catch the small smile that came over her face at the image of Jerome Parley, her hand stroking the moving image a little before she tensed up again. It made me realise how awful it must have been for her, their relationship fell apart right before the birth of their child and she had to raise Kevin by herself.

"I am so sorry Mrs Hawks." I got up and came over to comfort her.

"Its fine Lily, dear. It's just a little shocking that's all. You have to understand, the idea of magic was absurd to me before Kevin received his letter."

"I understand. I just don't understand why he was placed on the muggleborn records if this wasn't true."

She lowered her eyes. "I always believed that we had no other magical relations, so he probably got that from me."

After a little while, she shook away her sadness and picked up the photo album and was insistent that both Potter and I look through it. Most as guessed were of Kevin's childhood, but the sparse few were from Mrs Hawk's life too, some of her as a teenager and in her early life. But as she passed through some of the pages, and she was fixed on a picture of a toddler Kevin with a dripping ice lolly down his chin, I managed to find a group picture on the opposite page. It was of a fair few people, -Mrs Hawks included -all smiling for the camera.

She looked so young, her hair was long and from the dark colours of the photo I assumed her it had been a shade of brown and neatly imbetween her part sat an alice band. Her hair looked as though it was fresh out of rollers, all spiralled and twisty. Her young face showed a fair few freckles, but that wasn't what really caught my eye. There next to her I could make out as none other than Jerome Parley, and as my eyes squinted a little I could see that their hands were together. He was rather handsome, was tall and the picture showed him to be blonde wearing some classic sunglasses on his head and a devilish smile. A smile I had seen on someone else I knew.

"Hey Potter, come look at this." I smiled, ushering him over. He rolled his eyes but still smiled, looking over my shoulder. I pointed to the couple in the photo, and I felt him smile. Lucky enough, I was quick enough I raise my eyes up to catch this grin. I discretely slipped my hand into his, his thumb rubbing my gloved hand as we looked upon the sad image.

"These are wonderful Mrs Hawks."

"Ahh, look as this!" Mrs Hawks finally caught up to the photo we were content at looking at, her thumb rubbing over the image of her and Jerome, young and in love. "When he left me, I regrettably cut him out of all of my photos except this one." She laughed. "We were right in the middle though, so I suppose that I didn't have the heart to chop off other people's heads!"

"When was this?" Potter asked.

"This, gosh, this must have been the day we met. You see, I was quite a hippy back then, went to a lot of protests about trees and animals and all of that, and that's where I met him." She chuckled. "And oh! Look who it is, its young Matt!"

Now, the name Matthew isn't exactly the rarest of names but even so, as Mrs Hawks pointed to the boy standing beside Jerome in the photo, I nearly passed out. There was no mistaking Matthew McNolly when you see him, even as a young boy. There, he must have been about nine years old grinning as nine year olds do, trying to stand on his toes to be as tall as Jerome. Nevertheless, Jerome over took him by a mile. But why was McNolly in a photo with Kevin Hawks' parents?

"Potter, Potter it's him!" I muttered in a dangerously low voice.

"I see him."

Mrs Hawks' smile began to falter as Potter and I sat back down on the sofa, our expressions hardened.

"What's wrong?"

"That boy, his name was Matthew McNolly right?" I murmured, just loud enough for Mrs Hawks to hear.

"Why...yes. I do believe it was."

"...How did you meet him?" Potter asked on my behalf. The conversation had turned dramatically, the images of our own interrogation flooding back into the pipes of my own memory, trying to relax to stop myself from asking her too many questions at once.

At her brow creasing and her shifty eyes of suspicion crawling all over us, she began to speak. "...If I remember correctly, he was one of Jerome's friends."

"He had a nine year old friend?"

"Yes. He had brought him along to the protest." she closed her photo album with her fingers closing together like a clam shell protecting its secrets. "Why? Why do you want to know about Matt?"

By giving her a reassuring smile I managed to answer. "It's nothing Mrs Hawks don't worry."

"I not a fool. I know when something isn't quite right. I can handle it." Potter and I looked between us, our hands joining again. Mrs Hawks watched us, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "I can handle it."

I breathed a deep gulp of air, praying that it would give me the confidence to tell Mrs Hawk of what we knew.

"Matthew McNolly was part of the group of deatheaters that killed your son."

* * *

><p>Upon arriving back at the Potter household, we were greeted by Mrs Potter who looked most unpleased.<p>

"Lily, that telephone has been ringing all afternoon, and when I finally figured out how to answer the damn thing..." she trailed off, and then snapped back into action. "Anyway, it was your mother."

My eyes widened. Oh gosh, I had been meaning to call her since we had gotten arrested, but with the business with the records, there never seemed to be enough time.

"Thank you Mrs Potter!" I called down the hall, clambering down the steps and into the basement. Once I had made a path through the cardboard boxes again, I placed my fingers in the ring and twirled it around until I had dialled my home phone number. It was ringing before I had even come up with what to say to my mother and father. Goodness knows what Petunia must have been saying about be, fuelling her argument that I should be disowned.

"Hello?"

I gulped, sighing as I answered. "Hi Mum, it's me."

Then I recall all hell broke loose. "LILY EVANS! WHY THE BLAZES HAVEN'T YOU BEEN ANSWERING MY CALLS, OR MY LETTERS FOR THAT MATTER! WHY IS IT I AM HEARING ON THE NEWS THAT MY DAUGHTER GOT ARRESTED FOR MURDER?"

"Mu-Mum! Calm-Mum calm down!" I said between her words. Through the time where she had to breathe.

"Calm down? CALM DOWN? My daughter, arrested for murder? And you tell me to calm down?"

I remove the receiver from my ear a moment, and let in hang there while she let her temper out. I had never been on the end of one of my own fits of temper, now realising probably what it would be like. Terrifying. But a person who has many, _many_ times came creaking down the stairs quietly at that moment, frowning.

He mouthed. 'She mad?' to me.

My eyes rolled, moving over to the dangling receiver that was nowhere near my ear, pointing to my still screaming mother that was on the other end.

He laughed. Figures.

'Shut up.' I mouthed back, throwing my shoe at him, which he unfortunately dodged, still sniggering to himself.

"Now, I wonder who that reminds me of?" Potter whispered, placing his finger on his chin as though it where a real mystery.

"Shut up!" I half whispered-half laughed, taking off my other shoes and throwing it at him. Of course, this was dodged also. He began to walk toward me, cocky expression plastered all over his face as he raised his arms and shrugged.

His face was barely a few inches away from mine when he said. "Got no more shoes now Evans, what you gonna do now?"

"How do you know I don't have another shoe?" I countered.

"Because you don't have any more feet."

"Touché."

"Lily? Lily, are you still there?" I heard my mother's faint voice from the other end, I held my index finger up at Potter, grabbing the dangling receiver and placing it to my ear, tucking my red hair behind my ear.

"Here Ma."

"Good. Now, I am going to pass you over to your father."

I shook my head at Potter, a playful smirk arising on his face.

"Lily darling? It's your father, are you alright?"

"Hi Dad." I answered, putting a hand over Potters mouth. "I'm just fine. Please tell Mum it was all just a misunderstanding."

"I know dear, I hear the charges have been dropped. Just as well, I know my little girl wouldn't do a thing like that."

Potter now was deciding to be twice as annoying as usual, trying to tickle me.

'Stop it!" I mouthed, trying to be serious but failed as a smile broke through.

"Thank you Dad. I am glad you believed in me."

"How are things at the Potter house? Is that boy behaving himself? If not, you know you can always come home."

"Potter!" I hissed, him stopping but still chucking away.

"Sorry Lils? I didn't quite catch that." Potter held a hand to his ear, pretending as though he hadn't heard me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "My dad is on the other end. Now shush! If you don't I'll-"

"Or what?" He got even closer now, smiling even bigger as my own began to falter. "You're shoeless Evans..."

It wasn't long before James Potter was kissing me. All while my Dad was on the other end of the phone, practically talking to himself.

**Author Note: *tut tut* what are we going to do with them eh? Anyways, hope you liked it :)**

**Ickleblueeyedwitch**


	19. Chapter 19 New Housemate

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 19: New Housemate.**

* * *

><p>"James! There's someone at the door for you!"<p>

Slowly -might I add with a large sigh- Potter pulled away from me, smirking at my rosy cheeks. He raised his hand, gently pushing my red hair behind my ear.

"As always, my mother's timing is exceptional..." he smiled, kissing my cheek and getting up from the box we were sat on, leaping over some more boxes. "Yes ma?"

"Door for you!"

"I got that, but who?"

"Just come here, will you!"

Again, another sigh as he made his way up the basement stairs, all while I sat there quite frozen, my hand barely making its way to my burning face, mouth hanging open in quite a fish-like manor while asking myself; Did that really just happen? Me and Potter. Potter and me. Years ago, I may just have puked all over anyone who mentioned the idea...but now...?

"Hey Evans, come see!" I heard him call from above, my movements slow and alien, all of the steps taken up the rickety staircase felt too heavy, let alone the sunlight in the hall seemed much too illuminated to be true but as I arrived at the door, but even through my dazed vision I could make out who it was. There, amongst a few trunks, an owl cage and wearing that infamous smirk of his stood Sirius Black—the shaggy mop of hair could tell you that much.

"Black?"

"Evans." His tone less joyful that normal.

"What-what are you doing here?"

He shrugged, his eyes lowering a little and surveyed his luggage letting out a sigh quite similar to Potter's.

"I got kicked out."

"You what?"

"My mum lost it—not that it was a rare thing—but for good his time."

I felt my eyebrows knot together, my feet shuffle as I immediately walked over and gave him hug. Something on previous terms I would have never done, but today I was clearly not against trying new things.

He smiled as I pulled away, my only option was to smile back awkwardly.

"I am really sorry to hear that."

At this, he perked up. "Don't be. I'm not."

"Well, good riddance to them eh?" I heard Potter say, moving my sights over to see he was carrying one of Sirius's trunks up the stairs with some struggle, lugging it each step of the way.

"James?" At the sound of his mother's voice, her return from the kitchen made him jump, dropping the trunk onto his foot. To put it immensely kindly, I have to say that a few unpleasant words were to escape his mouth at that moment, causing Mrs Potter to stride her way up the stairs and hit him herself, wiping her hands together as if a job well done. "Now, what I was going to say before -might I add that vulgar language escaped my son's mouth- was where are you taking those bags?"

Potters hand went straight to his hair, his head cocking to the side in the direction of Sirius.

"Mum, you heard what happened. He has nowhere to go!"

Mrs Potter's arms crossed together, the apron she had around her smart dress was taken off as she scowled at her son, choosing the thwack him in the arm with it. I bit my lip as I too was ready to hear her scold him, but much to my surprise she began to help Potter carry them up the stairs.

"Huh?"

She halted mid flight, tilting her head to let Potter see the roll of her eyes before she began to say "Well, I didn't say that he couldn't stay, I was merely asking which room you were planning to take them to."

"Are you sure Mrs Potter?" Black asked hopefully.

"Do I ever make decisions lightly Sirius?"

"No."

"Well then, let's get these bags upstairs shall we. I am sure you know the ground rules, but If not we shall go over them again..."

As Mrs Potter returned at the top of the landing, she waved her wand making me dive out of the way as all of Black's items flew passed me and into his allocated room. Done, just like that.

Only as I began to make my way up the stair case myself did Black tap me on the shoulder and raise his eyebrow in question.

"What's with the gloves?"

* * *

><p>"I can't believe that she is making us do this." Potter sighed, raising his gloved hands and taking some more books from the shelf.<p>

"I can't believe _you_ are making _me_ do this!" Black retaliated, raising his hands that were now covered with a pair of grey gloves. It was true, while Mrs Potter was intent on planning our morning to the brim with chores, for example at this appropriate moment to clean the library (somewhere Black was supposedly allergic too) but it was also true that Potter and I had set the ground rules for Black that if he were to stay; then he would wear gloves for as long as we had to. This was an attempt to make Mrs Potter believe it was a fashion craze.

"Yes, well this is the only solution." I replied, brushing off some of the dust on the old books.

"But _I_ don't even have blue hands. And you could have at least given me a better colour..." he muttered mainly to himself, admiring the grey gloves.

"It won't be forever."

"Umm, how do you know? I have a reputation I'll have you know, and gloves do not suit a bad boy."

"Yes, they make you look like a prissy, we know, you've said that at least five times now..." Potter laughed. "And anyway, who told you that you are a supposed 'bad boy'?"

Black heaved in, putting his hand on his chest looking deeply offended. "Who _told_ me? Prongs that title was given to me at birth!" His voice became deeper. "It's a gift as well as a curse."

At this both Potter and I laughed, making Black look even more offended, turning on his heel and according to him, shunning the 'less beautiful' as he walked out of the door.

"What about the chores?" Potter stuck his head out of the door at the same time as wiping a book from dust.

"Bad boys don't do chores." Was the distant reply coming from their room. That left Potter and I alone. Again.

"So..." he asked, placing the now clean book back in its place on the shelf.

"So..." was my quiet reply, focusing on the title of the book I was cleaning. "How come your Mum has only decided to do chore day, the day after Sirius arrived?"

Pushing his glasses back up he shrugged. "Suppose it was her way..." he began to get closer smirking at my 'deer in the headlights' expression as he continued. "...of laying down the law for him."

My eyes moved upward, seeing him smile at me and twirl the strand of ear he had tucked behind ear yesterday evening round his finger.

"...Isn't working though is it?" I continued.

"Well, according to him 'Bad boys' don't do chores."

"So I heard."

"So if that is the case..."

He cupped my face in his hands once again, kissing me gently, my arms curling around his neck as I found myself kissing him back once again, dropping the book I was holding.

"So you consider yourself a bad boy then?" I came away, smiling at him.

He rests his forehead on mine, then shrugged as his lips curved a little. "Maybe."

I moved in for another kiss, his chest rising then lowering at my choice to pause. I then smirked "I don't."

"How rude Miss Evans."

"Bad boys aren't really my thing. I prefer gangly, scruffy haired, glasses wearing boys who are terribly goofy-even though they won't admit it."

"How rud-" he was interrupted by me this time, kissing him while feeling his smile from under my lips.

"Oh and another thing—Whoa!" We parted immediately, almost jumping to each end of the library with both of our faces immensely pink, my thumbs twiddling together behind my back and eyes focused on my shoes. I raised them enough to see Black sauntering cockily to the middle of me and Potter, with a smirk larger than the perimeter of the world slapped onto his stubbly face. "Get in there Prongsey! You scored Evans!"

"Padfoot-"

"Now, I know it's been a long time coming for you my man, but YOU!" he pointed to me, waggling his finger. "You are a little minx Evans."

He moved over to Potter's side of the room and patted him on the back, Potter half smiling and half looking stunned. I turned around, making my way to the back of the library to try and immerse myself in cleaning books to block out Black reminiscing on the times that I had hexed Potter for picking on different students or the amount of times I had rejected him or something like that. It was then, that I found a counter hidden at the back and once I had neared close enough, I opened the cupboard doors to find a host full of different coloured potions. From a bright red to a gloomy green.

"Padfoot, seriously it's no big deal." Potter's attempt to calm him.

"No big deal? Man, the amount of years I had to spend listening to you pine over that girl and wish that you could kiss her and thinking to myself 'bloody hell, I wish she would just love him already' so it could save my ears hurting-"

"...My ears are hurting right now..." Potter muttered.

Ignoring him I heard Sirius continue "...and you try to tell me it's no big deal? Hello? Its Lily Evans! Girl of your dreams...yadah yadah and all of the rest!"

I chose to block out their conversation, observing this little area for a moment. Beside the large window that came to a point at the top sat a dark wooden table that to me, appeared as though it had been recently worked on, a few books were piled up together along with a few empty flasks. I reached over a smelled one of the flasks, my memory not serving me well as I couldn't quite remember where I had smelt it before. It was an attractive scent, maybe of musk...but my eye briefly crossed the spines of the books, seeing that they were all different types of potion books. Wrapping my fingers round one of the spines I flicked through them, seeing and noting the amount of damaged that could be done if the Marauders where to get hold of this. After putting that one down I moved onto the second one, that appeared to be more medical and the third was well...what you'd expect in a house that belong to an Auror.

"Amos Presley's Potions for Criminal minds." I heard a voice read out slowly. "What do you want with that?"

"Found it." Was my reply. "Want to look?"

As I expected, this got him off of my back him flinching. "No."

"Oh..I remember you are allergic to books." I nodded, acting as though I believed him.

"Hey! Its real...don't look at me like that." Black replied.

"Of course."

My eyes rolled at their own accord, my attention returning back to the book but as soon as they did, the book was slipped out of my hands. I scowled, not expecting Potter to be the culprit.

"What are you doing?"

"No, what are you doing?"

I crossed my arms. "I _was_ reading."He shook his head and placed it back where it had come from. He then took my hand and began to walk me away. Of course, he didn't expect me to dig my heels in. "What is wrong with you?"

"Look, this is where my Dad works. I have never been allowed here since I was a boy, so If he finds us in..."

"Then we will tell him that your Mum told us to clean in here."

He rushed his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming exasperated.

"I'm serious Lily."

"So am I."

"Well, obviously I am. But what I am sensing here is a little role reversal."Sirius interrupted. "Since when has Prongsey-boy ever not broken the rules, and Miss Evans encouraged him to?"

"Happening more often than you'd think..." I muttered.

"Well, I will not stand for it." And with this, he waltzed over to the table and began reading the book, his nose crumpling up.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

"There was a page turned here. Look!"

He lowered the book, my eyes spotting the corner of the page turned over and browsing over the page. The title was called 'Trackers' and my mind instantly knew why. This was a whole chapter dedicated to tracking criminals. To my knowledge, Mr Potter had used a spell (or now I was thinking a potion) to track whoever had stolen the records. The blue jelly was a tracker.

I took the book from Sirius and began flicking through the chapter until I came across a drawing of a blue hand in the book. My face light up instantly.

"Black you are a genius!" I kissed him on the cheek.

"Why, thank you."

"Look, James it's the blue jelly." I pointed to the picture. As my eyes widened I knew what the smell in the beaker was, and I took off my gloves and inhaled my skin—the same musk smell. "James, we can get rid of our blue hands!"

I flicked through the book, feeling him come behind me and cautiously peer over my shoulder, my finger running across the words. These were the instructions to make the potion...but they were increasingly difficult. My theory was proven correct as I turned the page, the removal was on the back.

"Whoa...that looks..." Potter began.

"Really difficult." I finished. "And...takes 48 hours to brew."

"How bloody long?"

"2 days. Not as long as some...but still. It would be better if it were quicker." I sighed. "And by the looks of things, to get it right will be difficult."

"Yeah, but you are forgetting that you get really good grades in potions."

"Tell me something she doesn't get good grades in." Sirius commented.

"Shh Padfoot. Look, just try it. Nothing can be worse than wearing these gloves." He reassured me, by a kiss on the cheek.

"You want to bet?"

We spent the next few hours rummaging around the house to find the different ingredients and still we were only a few short. I looked at the long list, scratching my head with the end of a pencil while Potter and Black laid out the items in my room in a line. They were in all sorts of jars and different containers and even things they had found in the fridge. I frowned at seeing the different coloured items of food they had collected, the packet of fizzing whizzbees and Bertie botts sitting not-so-silently in the corner. I longed over the list again, not remembering adding them.

"...And those are for...?" I asked them, pointing to the packets.

Black shook his head, then shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. "If we get hungry."

"But you're always hungry, Pads." Potter reminded him.

This caused him to smile and nod, as if he was being very intelligent indeed. "That's what the _two_ packets are for."

"So, have we got everything?"

I tucked the pencil behind my ear—something my father would do quite often.

"ahh...not quite. We are still missing a few things."

"And they're not in the house?"

"It doesn't seem like it."

"Then there is only one thing for it." Black exclaimed. "To Diagon Alley."

To Diagon Alley we would go.

**Author note: As they say, To Diagon Alley! Anyways, hope you some-what liked it. Ickleblueeyedwitch**

**P.S Thank you very much for all of the reviews, story favourites and if you have been following this story at all!**


	20. Chapter 20 Diagon Alley

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 20: Diagon Alley<strong>

With my scruffy excuse for shoes, grey woollen jumper than didn't suit and a tweed shopping bag of Mrs Potter's in arm, my eyes surveyed the familiar residence, lips curving at the sight. Diagon Alley was just as it was the last time we had paid a visit at the beginning of the school year; the same cobbled pathway, the same comforting colourful and artistic architecture and the bits and bobs that were laid out in plain sight for the promise of customers. Just how it ought to be. But while there was an overall positive vibe emitted, it wasn't quite enough to hide what I managed to spy next. In a purple robe and wonky hat that was falling almost off of his head was a wizard who was busy pinning several posters over the tinted windows of the most familiar shops. It didn't take a genius to figure from the large lettering that they were posters of those who were considered missing, and I didn't want to have to look closely enough to guess that on one of those posters would be the face of Matthew McNolly. That I didn't want to see this very early morning.

"Have you got the list?" Reality was broadened by Sirius as he waved a hand in front of my face.

"List? Oh...the list." I muttered mainly to myself, digging into the pockets of my trousers and withdrawing the lined paper that now resembled something of my grandmother. Wrinkled. "We need... seaweed, essence of dittany, beetle juice and a mandrake root."

Sirius's nose began to wrinkle, taking the list from my hands and reading it over himself.

"...and you have to drink that, with the other stuff?"

"That's what the book says."

So of course, he began to snigger causing me to sigh and continue my way down the street as if James was _not_ flicking Sirius in the ear, and if Sirius was _not_ continuing to remind us both that were going to have to drink a concoction which didn't sound at all appetising. But that list was going to get rid of the blue dye, and that was all that I was focusing on.

After spotting the exact shop that held all of the items that were yearned for, I headed in the same direction, forced to keep looking behind me to make sure James and Sirius were following me, and not wondering off into 'Quality Quidditch Supplies' when my back was turned. Once in front of the shop, I craned my neck upward seeing the chained sign which tilted and creaked in the breeze reading: 'Slug and Jiggers Apothecary'. Exactly where we needed to be. I stretched my hand out and opened the dark wooden door, hearing the familiar sound of a bell at our arrival. Within held shelves and shelves of every ingredient imaginable, the dark red wood inside emphasized the clear jars holding the not-so-clear contents. Browsing the shelves with a keen eye, I could make out a few already from my classes with Professor Slughorn, such as the eye of newt and the large tub in the corner which I could recognise as Aconite.

"Hello?" I called, nearing the counter to which no one was behind. "Hello, is anyone there?"

"Oh well, looks as though no-one is in. If anyone needs me, I'll be over-"

Sirius didn't need to finish his sentence for me to know where he planned to go. But his halt was at the presence of James, grabbing him by the back of his t-shirt and yanking him back into the shop.

"If I have to stay, you have to stay." He muttered to him, eyes drifting over to the shop in question and then back again, clearly snapping back into reality. This obviously didn't go down too well with Sirius, his choice of action to be one of a five year old—stomping his foot and sticking his bottom lip out to show his disapproval.

My attention returned to the desk for a very bored looking man with a wispy grey goatee beard and crazy grey hair which stood up in all directions emerged from a doorway, sighed and raised a bushy eyebrow at me.

"...Yes...?"

I dug out the list again. "Oh, I would like to place an order for these, please."

I slid the list toward the man, watching intently as his grey eyes glided across my tidy scrawl. With a sigh, he pushed back on the desk and began to delve into different jars, pulling out the said ingredients and placing them on the counter. Going back to the list, his eyes widened a little, head shaking and pointed to one of the ingredients again.

"You say you want essence of dittany?" he asked, revealing a strong Scottish accent. I smiled and began to nod. "You know how much it costs I am sure?"

I knew how rare dittany was if that was what he meant, but the real cost? Quickly, I shifted my eyes over to the price list in which was pinned to the wall, and read down until I came across dittany. I might as well have thrown my entire life's savings at it.

"Y-yes, Sir." I gulped.

"That's fine. I was just checking." The man began to parcel up the ingredients, his eyebrows dancing around on his forehead. He then proceeded to push the parcel toward me, my response to delve into my bag retrieving the amount of money I needed and placing it on the desk. There goes the money I was going to use to buy my mother's birthday present.

"Wait, hold it." I heard James from behind me, the sound of money rattling around in his palms. He took half of the money I had placed on the counter, and put it back in my hands while replacing it with his own.

"What are you doing?"

He smirked. "You didn't think I was going to make you pay the whole fee for it did you? We both need it, so it would be unfair."

"But-But-"

"Unfair, Evans."

I sighed, dropping my remaining money into my purse with a silently thankful nod towards him for helping, while smiling at the shopkeeper and carrying our ingredients out of the shop and back into the daylight of Diagon Alley.

"_Now_ can I please go?" Sirius piped up as soon as my foot had hit the cobbled flooring and the door of the shop creaked shut.

I shook my head quite like a mother would to her child, but sighed and looked at James for advice. But it was no good; he too was acting like a child in a candy store, practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"Yeah, please Lily!"

After narrowing my eyes and smiling, my sigh gave them my answer as they clambered into 'Quality Quidditch Supplies', eyes bright and shining as they joined the few small children staring at the new addition to the broomstick family; it declaring to be the 'Fastest broom in the world'. I'll believe that when I see it.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here."I turned around, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck seeing the faces of several people who I would rather not come into contact with if I could help it. "Naughty Naughty, shouldn't we be somewhere? Perhaps at our work experience maybe?" He taunted. He being none other than Avery, and coming out from behind his counterpart –The less than welcome Mulciber- eyes directed downwards was a face I knew all too well. Severus Snape.

"I could say the same to you." I retorted, standing my ground as Avery and Mulciber circled me, my eyes narrowing at Snape as he chose to stand back.

Avery sneered, and then spat on the ground. "I can't believe the Auror Office accepted _you_. Ha. They're a joke."

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you Avery."

I turned around again to see James and Sirius, their smiles lost to the wind as both of their faces stone cold as they descended down the stairs of the shop.

"Ahh...Potter, Black, come to join the party?"

"Just slither back from where you came from Avery. We don't want any trouble."

Mulciber began to cackle, as did Avery.

"Or what Potter? You'll set your little Mudblood girlfriend on me?"

And that was enough. Fireworks were alight in James's eyes as he drew out his wand, and within two mighty steps he had his wand at Avery's throat, the cackles dying down.

"Say that word again. I dare you." His voice was dangerously low, like a revved car engine his wand sinking into Avery's bony neck, the only response he received was Avery bearing his wonky yellow teeth, his spotty chin stretching as he looked James in the eye.

"James, he is not worth it." I told him, wanting to get home and start this potion without having to worry about getting my healers manual out.

"Nah, Lily. I'd say this punk ought to learn to wash his mouth out with soap." Sirius ambled his way over to help James, his wand also raised.

"What like your mother would to you? Oops, but then again, she wouldn't care what happened to you, now would she?" Mulciber countered Sirius, causing Avery to snigger.

"Yeah, I hear she wished you were dead. That can be arranged." Avery sneered.

"Why you little-" James raised his wand, but Snape was quicker coming out from the shadows and striking James in the side of the face, causing him to fly backwards.

"James!" I called, dropping my bag of ingredients and taking out my own wand. I helped him up, the side of his face covered in dirt and spewing blood. His skin was like a milk carton that had been punctured over and over again, tiny holes covered one side of his face letting trickles of blood drip down his face, using his sleeve to wipe them away.

"James is it now Lily? What happened to Potter?" Snape spoke for the first time, his chest rising and falling, wand still raised.

"What did you do to him?" I growled, James getting up and raising his wand also. At this point, the events had attracted many of the morning shopper's attention, crowding round us to see what all of the fuss was about.

"He's finally sucked you in hasn't he? Turned you into one of them!"

"Like it is any of your business anymore! You chose your path and I chose mine. And if that path is with James, then so be it."

He shook his head, teeth bearing as he kicked the floor. He then channelled his frustrations into aiming his wand at James, throwing as many spells as he could muster at once, James having no other option but to retaliate. Spells were thrown all over; James battling with Snape, Avery and Mulciber taking on Sirius. I wasn't just going to stand there, taking out my wand and joining Sirius, feeling that the odds were just a little unfair for my liking.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Stupefy!"

Without any kind of warning, both sides were propelled backwards, each landing on our backs and getting up groaning. My vision was a little blurred, wondering whether I had been hit by one of the spells but it was only when I was being yanked up in the air by the back of my jumper did I realise what had really happened.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Moody growled. I noticed that in his other hand he had James, his legs flailing around, eager to get back to battling with Snape.

"We-we were..."

"We were defending ourselves." James told him.

Moody rolled one of his eyes, and dropped us on the ground with a thud.

"Yes, because the little one is really going to knock your lights out for sure." He sniggered, aiming the insult at Avery. Avery was about to aim another spell in our direction, but Moody had barely even raised his little finger when Avery's wand fell to the floor. "Save it hotshot."

"I'll get you. All of you." Avery muttered, beckoning Snape and Mulciber away, skulking off down the alley, like rats trailing down a drain.

"You were meant to be at work 15 minutes ago."

"Well those 15 minutes were well spent!" Sirius brushed off the dirt on his trousers.

Moody turned towards him, looking him up and down. "Did I ask you?"

"Didn't need to, Sir."

"Look smartarse-"

"We're sorry Moody; we were just doing some shopping for James's mother. She's-"

James lied. "-She's got the flu."

Moody's eyes narrowed. "The flu?"

"Yeah, that thing you get when you are really sick and cough a lot and-" Sirius was silenced by Moody placing his hand over his mouth.

"I know what it is." He mocked, as if he were talking to a five year old.

I chose to step in, seeing that Sirius and Moody were not making the best of impressions.

"Sir, please don't tell Mr Potter."

Moody smiled cunningly, and looked between the two of us.

"If what you are saying is true, then I will have no need to. Let's go, before I find that Cassie has destroyed my office before I give you your task for today."

The potion would have to wait till tonight.

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><p>"Where is Azkaban located?" Moody bellowed, pointing to the board where a picture of a grimy looking building sat with grey waves lapping around it.<p>

Cassie raised her hand. "Ooh, ooh pick me!" she bounced.

Moody's eyes rolled back into his head, sitting on the desk with a creek.

"Cassie?" he drawled.

"In the ocean."

I suppressed a smile, hiding it once seeing Moody's scowl.

"Anyone with half a brain want to answer?"

I peeked up out of my seat, looking round the room. As usual, we were the only ones here, (James, Cassie and I) so it meant that If Moody was going to leave the office in the least bit happier than he was right this moment, James would have to stop trying to make his hair messier and I would have to raise my hand. The second example seemed more possible.

"Somewhere in the north sea?"

He smiled –or if that's what it was- and creaked up, waving the photo of Azkaban.

"Partially correct. On an island."

"I knew that." Cassie piped up, sticking her tongue out.

It was then when Mr Potter opened the door of the practise room rather frantically, composing himself before motioning for Moody to follow. They were joined in a conversation outside, shutting the door so we couldn't hear. James and I looked between each other, making our way over to the door and ducking down, just enough so we were in ear shot.

"The leaked source told us that it is about to happen now. We need to get there before they do—otherwise it could be Kevin Hawks all over again."

"And you've got the records; you know who they are targeting?"

"Yes, they are in your office remember?"

"I know, I'll fetch them while you round up the troops. I don't want to have to file another death report."

The door handle hooked down, James pulling me back to our desks, sitting there as if we had heard nothing. Moody re-entered the office, quickly overlooking the room to make sure nothing had changed and began to put on his long coat.

"Something has come up, so you two are free to go. But you." He pointed to Cassie. "Need to file these reports for me and finish interviewing those suspects that I told you about. Got that?" and with this, he was out of the door following Mr Potter down the hall.

"Now I defiantly know that something is up." Cassie got up from her desk, leaning on my desk and placing her fingers to her eyes and back at us. "I said I was watching you. Cassie don't lie."

"Up Cassie? What's up?"

She pursed her lips, inspecting the electric blue ends of her hair, before going over to the desk where a pile of papers with a note that I could read said 'Cassie' on them—clearly the files that Moody had laid out for her. She then proceeded to sit on them.

"The gloves, the sneaking, the listening in on conversations. And-" she pointed to her shoe laces, reminding me that I had forgotten to apologise for that. "-the pranks...you know something you shouldn't."

"What?" James scoffed. Unfortunately this wasn't enough to fool her this time.

"Don't 'What?' me, Romeo. You're busted and I want in."

I looked towards James, him shrugging getting up and making his way over to Cassie leisurely, cocking his head to the side.

"Run!" He grabbed my arm suddenly, both of us racing out of the room before Cassie could figure out what had happened, hiding behind a pillar. James then dug into his pocket, pulling out a flimsy material. "Quick, put this over us." And so I did, it comfortably covering us.

"What is it?"

"It'll hide us. Don't worry."

"Worry? Why would I? You just asked me to put a blanket over our heads, and your Dad is about to find that the records we placed in the box are fake!"

"They were replicas though, right?" I couldn't remember what I had done in the moment. I remember that there were scrolls placed back in there, but whether they held the names that Mr Potter had apparently wanted, I didn't know. "Either way, we better get brewing that potion before he puts two and two together. These gloves won't hide us for much longer."

"But what about the people on the records? Shouldn't we-"

James shook his head. "As much as I want to follow and make sure that we don't have another Kevin Hawks incident, we can't risk it. Not until this potion is brewed. We need to cover our tracks."

"Unless..." I looked up at the flimsy material. "What is this James?"

He looked up at it. "...It's an invisibility cloak."

It suddenly made sense, how James had managed to illuded Cassie that time in the toilets, how he had just disappeared in thin air. The cloak had hid him from plain sight. I nodded, smiling as the light bulb began to spring alight in my mind.

"Nobody is going to die and we are using this to make sure of it."

**Author note: Another chapter should be up soon, but I hoped you liked this one!**

**Ickleblueeyedwitch.**


	21. Chapter 21 Caught blue handed

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 21: Caught Blue handed**

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><p>We made our way down the tedious corridor of the auror office, following the shadows of Mr Potter and Moody, the cloak shielding us from view. They entered Moody's office, the crack of the door enabling James and I to see within; Moody tipping out of the box scrolls and the unravelling of each document.<p>

"Accio records!" Mr Potter held his wand out, bellowing across the room. Moody stopped searching, the both of them taking a moment to look around the room as if expecting the scroll to land into Mr Potter outstretched hand. Well, it would if it were _in _the room.

"What do we do?" I whispered to James frantically. But before I could utter words of a uncharted plan, the records that were in James's pocket began to wiggle their way out, as if they were an alive animal that was trying to escape. Thrashing and beginning to take flight, James caught them before they could escape the security of the cloak, holding onto them with much difficulty.

"I can't believe this..." Mr Potter muttered, shoving a hand through his hair. He then kicked the floor, making his way over to the desk in the room and looking underneath it. "I cannot bloody believe this!"

"Gone?" Moody guessed.

Mr Potter raised his head, and pointed to the desk. "The trap has been triggered."

"Then shouldn't we have seen who was trying to steal them already?"

"You mean succeeded."

At that moment, James's grip was no match for the scroll, thrashing its way out from under his fingers he finally let go, the scroll slipping out from under the cloak and landing swiftly at the base of Mr Potter's feet. But this wasn't the only thing that had managed to slip out from under out grip. Our cover was gone, with the force of the scroll's reluctant it had pulled us forward, the invisibility cloak left behind with only James and I in a heap, scrambling to get up.

If anything, this caught their attention.

"You."

"Not today Dad!" was the reply he received, Potter raising his wand and muttering an unfamiliar incantation. From the end of his wand poured litres of thick fog and mist, the kind that even a lighthouse couldn't be seen through. The kind that sunk ships. We took this opportunity, grabbing the flimsy material of the cloak that lay on the floor and running down the corridor, clashing into several people who were blinded by the fog. We found a corner to hide in, throwing the cloak of the both of us just in time for the fog to dramatically fade, revealing a very irritable Moody and Mr Potter.

"They can't have gotten far." Mr Potter muttered, his fists clenched.

"Look, at the moment they are the least of our problems. Let's just get going." Moody snapped Mr Potter back into reality. After surveyed the corridor for a few more seconds, Mr Potter sighed and followed Moody back into his office, picking up the records and apparating out. We could breathe.

"You might as well pick my gravestone out right now." James muttered, shaking his head as he shoved the cloak back into his pocket, leaning against the wall. A smile arose on my lips, but not out of amusement, no, more out of sympathy. This had to be it, didn't it? There were only a few days left of our work experience, and we would be thrown out before we finished when they get their hands on us.

"We have to follow them." I announced after a few minutes.

"I'm afraid you don't get a choice." Was the reply I received from James, only his lips didn't move and frankly his voice didn't sound so hoarse. Spinning around, I almost fell over spotting Matthew McNolly , and he looked as though he were coming out from the wall, his lower half not being seen. James and I barely raised our wands when he continued. "Now, now, let's not get carried away here."

He was right, we didn't have a choice as he waved his own wand, our hands flying behind our backs as if there were a magnetic force binding them together at will. I struggled, swinging my foot in aim at McNolly's face. He caught it, a snide grin forming on his mouth as I stumbled.

"Let her go or I'll swear I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" he replied, smiling at James as though he were a small car, and McNolly being the monster truck. "Save it. You have a job to do and I have time to waste."

With one step his whole body was out of the wall, him grabbing the both of us. He clearly didn't expect such a struggle; wincing as I began to kick him in the shins, James thrashing about violently. But, he only smiled. Smiling was all he could muster as he dragged us through the wall and into the darkness.

* * *

><p>"This is a little game we are going to play called watch and learn." He muttered, after throwing us onto the ground. I squinted, trying to figure out where on earth he had taken us. It was dark but I could still make out shapes of different buildings, the one in the far corner was what was pointy and jagged another was tall and thin. But sight wasn't the only sense I could rely on. I could also hear what I thought were seagulls and after listening a little harder I figured that I could hear the ocean, yes, and a soft breeze could be felt on my neck.<p>

"Are we on a...?"

"Beach." McNolly answered. "Maybe I overestimated you smart one." I imagined him rolling his eyes.

"You gonna drown us?" I heard James ask, faintly seeing him kicking at the sand.

"Don't give me any ideas kid."

But that was when the seagulls began to die down, the sound of the waves crashing onto the sand faded into the background, a new sound drowning out the rest. The sounds of people – like more than a few- tiptoeing their way across the sand.

"Get behind there." I heard in my ear: McNolly, dragging James and I behind a rock. He too knelt down, his eyes reflecting the water.

"Aye, Marty from the party! How are you mate!" An unfamiliar voice, one that sounded slurred and out of proportion.

"Not to bad myself, you? See you were throwing some shapes tonight?"was the reply- a hollowed out accent. The two men sounded completely drunk, their words slurring, the conversation finishing with slurred laughter, and talking that didn't make much sense. This noise was crowded once more by a new noise, more people to be exact.

"Heyo mate? Hows you doin' this fine afternoon?" the first guy asked.

A flash of light.

And this is where things began to get interesting. Screams where to be heard from the two men, more flashes of light as James and I peeked over the rock, the flashes of light giving us the opportunity to see that the two men were running around, arms in the air and occasionally crashing into one another. They didn't look very old, maybe in their teens, and if they were out of it a minute ago, this certainly had woken them up.

"What do you think you are playing at?" a new voice again, coming from the larger group of people who appeared to be flying spells at the boys. "These aren't the ones we came for!"

"Aw come on, why not have a little fun with these muggles?" was the reply, a few more spells fired at the two boys, their shrieks could be heard from down the coast.

"Stop it!" it was defiantly a woman. And from the light that had began to spark from the long tall building I had spied before (a lighthouse to be exact) flooded the grounds every so often gave me the opportunity to see that the larger group of people where in fact some of Matthew McNolly's buddies. Death eaters.

"Please,please don't hurt us!" Party Marty pleaded, getting on his knees and rocking. The other boy, had a short buzz cut and looked much tougher was hanging on another death eaters legs, crying his eyes out. The deatheater spat on them, shaking his leg to get the boy off.

"Uggh, are you sure we can't kill them, I mean-"

"No. We do the job, then we get out. Got it?" the woman ordered, her voice like a vice.

"Or...skip the rest, and get out." A new voice. This time it was one both James and I recognised and instantly cowered down, shrinking behind the rock. Even McNolly tensed.

"Ahh, right on queue." the woman answered.

All hell broke loose. On each path of light than shone through the bay showed different images, all of fighting between the witches of wizards and good and evil. Death eaters stood a lesser chance it would seem, with their lesser numbers than the many aurors that had taken place on the beach, spells being fired in all direction. But this wasn't always the case, the spells they used were harsher, Mr Potter having dived out of the way of a red spark of 'Crucio' that nearly hit him, my hearing James suck in some air, his nerves probably running high.

I then moved my sights toward McNolly, him waving his wand and I felt the force between my hands grow weaker, my arms separating from behind my back like a eagle spreading its wings for flight. James copied, him taking out his wand and spinning it through his fingers getting reading to aim a spell at the female death eater who had fired a spell at his dad.

"Dogface, we meet again..." he muttered, remembering her from our last encounter.

"Wait." I stopped him, putting my hand on top of his, his eyes immediately locking with mine. I removed them, looking sideways to see that McNolly had already fled the scene with only a key-ring of a small surfboard left in his place. But again this was interrupted, the arrival of a another new figure on the beach, a woman with a surfboard in arm. The battle halted, like someone had chosen to freeze time as they all looked upon the woman, her steely expression beat over her surprise. Time caught up once she also drew out her wand, battle commencing.

"She's the one they want!" I guessed, looking at the key-ring and then the woman.

The deatheaters began to attack her, the aurors defending her, but by the looks of things she needed no defending. She was a blonde woman, freakishly tall and wearing a rash vest and board shorts. Typical surfer. Only, surfers don't tend to have their boards crushed to pieces by cackling deatheaters.

"Three, two, one..." James began to mutter to himself as if counting down to a rocket launch. Immediately after one, a firework exploded out of his wand, shattering into the dark sky with colour, illuminating the whole scene. This distracted the aurors and death eaters, leaving James and I to slink out from the rock and help the woman escape. Or that's what my plan was anyway...

"James?" Mr Potter called, bringing the deatheaters attention to him unintentionally. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE, BOY?"

"Saving your arse." He called back, firing a spell at a deatheater who was about to pounce on his father.

I stood beside the surfer woman, helping to defend against four ugly looking deatheaters.

"Aren't you a little young to be an auror?" she asked, firing a spell behind her, hitting a death eater square in the chest.

"Aren't you a little..." I couldn't think of something remarkably witty to reply, the whole of my attention focused on fighting. "tall...?"

"Lily, look out!" James called. But he was too late, the spell hit my arm, a large cut from my wrist to my elbow formed as I winced. My gloves flew off, causing Mr Potter and Moody to see that my hands were unmistakably blue, and that their theories were correct. The deatheater sneered, but not for long as James threw a spell at his legs causing his to fall flat onto his face, coughing up sand. I saw James shrug at his father, also taking of his gloves to reveal blue hands. We were caught red handed...or should I say blue handed.

I shot another spell at another death eater, them dodging it like it was a game, not even getting scratched. But another load of them began to rally around James and Mr Potter, the two now back to back and turning in circle.

"You and Lily stole the records." Mr Potter said so matter-of-factly. "I guessed that you had but-"

"Look Dad, we are a much bigger part of this than you know. It needed to happen."

Another spell was counteracted.

"But I told the both of you to let us handle the situation from then on."

"Try telling that to Matthew-"

"JAMES!" I called, a deatheater raised his wand, sending eruptions of fire towards both of the Potter men, the two diving out of the way.

"That's my son you-" Mr Potter yelled, firing a spell at the said deatheater, fire in his eyes.

James ran toward me, dragging me behind the rock with him. "Take her and go." He told me, pointing to the surfer woman.

"But-"

"You have to. They won't suspect you." He reassured me. Overlooking my face, he smiled looking back at the battle. He grabbed the small key-ring that lay on the sand and handed it to me, my hand closing around it.

"If you think I am leaving you here by yourself Potter, then you have another thing coming." I told him, my temper flaring. He smirked, even though his face that was dirty and covered in soot from the flames.

"I'll be fine, let me and my Dad spend some quality father and son time together." He smirked. "...and besides, me and Dogface have a score to settle."

He leant in, kissing me for a moment before pushing a strand of my dirty hair behind my ear.

"Be careful." I scolded him.

"Aren't I always?" he ran off into the chaos, leaving me to have to go out into the open, dodging spells and heading straight for the surfer woman.

"Get her out of here!" One of the aurors called. I nodded, grabbing the woman's wrist, but before I could, Dogface stepped in front and clasped her hands around the woman's wrist.

"My pleasure." She cackled, and with that she apparated out with the surfer with her. The problem being that I was attached.

**Author note: Well, another chapters here, and as usual I am stating the obvious...oh well, I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Ickleblueeyedwitch.**


	22. Chapter 22 A Jackman of cards

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 22: A Jack-man of cards.<strong>

It was dark, damp and dismal when I found myself waking, eyes fluttering open; my face resting on the cold dewy floor. Unpeeling my cheek from what I could feel as a cobbled pathway, my fingers wandered freely, searching for the willpower and energy to sit up and fully evaluate my surroundings. When in fact I managed to grasp such energy, I wondered why I had even bothered.

Above was a low ceiling of which cobwebs of spiders hung together like a net -as if these flimsy things were the difference between the ceiling crumbling and falling- ropes and riggings like the sort you'd find amongst a ship. Moving across even further there was a tiny rectangular window, the only thing bearing little light, and straight below this stood the woman from the beach. Unlike me, she was very much awake, using all of her force to push herself off of the ground, attempting to leap closer to the window—clearly trying to escape.

"So you're awake then?" I heard her call, any sound making my head feel as if it were compressing against the side of my skull. I winced, my hand leaping towards my head.

The woman stopped jumping, a frown creeping up on her face as she looked around apparently searching for something. After a few precious seconds, she found what she was searching for, lifting up what looked to me like a shoe, my eyes gliding down to see that I was in fact wearing only one of mine. I held out my hand, expecting her to hand it to me, only to see that I was very much ignored as she used it to try and reach the latch of the window.

"What are you doing?" my voice didn't sound like my own, this one voice sounded raspier and deeper.

"What does it look like? One of us has to try and get out of here, and being as you aren't much help..." she trailed off, getting frustrated at her progress -or lack of- now using my shoe to try and bash in the window while jumping up and down to try and reach it.

"Wha's going on in there?" a new voice. Female. It was screechy like an eagle and at the same time just as powerful.

My head turned towards the new sound, seeing a door that I missed earlier. From the crack beneath it, there was artificial light pouring through and reaching my hand. The door began to unlock, yet again another sound as the woman (who was still wearing her rash vest and shorts) hopped onto the floor, throwing my shoe in the corner and making herself look as casual as possible. As the door swung open, Dogface peered through, her jawbone as thick as it was since last, her face screwed up, lips tight as she slowly scowered the room, pointing her bony finger at the both of us.

"You make one move...and-" she stopped taking, bearing an ugly smile and she drew her finger across her neck, laughing in the process. She then shut the door, the bolts and key turning, until we could hear the faint footsteps and cackles fade away.

"Charming..." I muttered, receiving a snort from the woman who was now up on her feet again, spotting a pile of crates in the corner, trying to pull one away. I knew what she was going to do of course, she was trying to pull it under the window to get closer to the latch.

"So do you have a name?" she asked, pulling her now dry wavy hair to one side of her neck, bending her knees and began moving the box.

I raised myself up slightly, my balance wobbling, still so as I began to help her move the wooden crate left.

"Its Lily." I replied, biting my tongue at the weight of the crate.

"Serena." She told me, whether I was going to ask or not.

It was only when a sound that to me resembled snoring was to be heard when the both of us dropped our arms, them resting at our sides, jumping back slightly.

"Who's there?" Serena asked, her voice a little shaky but not that her expression would tell you.

Yet again another snore.

I patted my thighs, hoping to feel my wand in pocket ripped jeans pocket only to feel nothing but my own skin.

"Where-"

"Don't bother." Serena indicated to the door. "Its long gone."

There it was again, the loud snoring noise. We both craned our necks over the crates, sliding them to the side, both jumping back at what we saw. It was a man, all curled up in a foetal position sleeping but he looked terribly ill. His hair was thinning, his clothes were ripped and the all of skin that was showing on arms where covered in large gashes. From what I could guess he was maybe in his mid fifties?

From the corner of my eye I saw Serena move, crabbing a long pole and nudging him with it. He stirred.

"What are you doing?" I asked, stopping her by placing my hand of the pole and leaning it away from the man. "He's ill."

She blinked, her blue eyes glowering at me. "He could be dangerous...and diseased."

I scowled, not on the same wavelength. How long this poor man had been here I didn't know, but I was determined to find out. So, I knelt down gently nudging his shoulder and began to speak.

"Excuse me? Sir, can you hear me?"

The snoring came to a halt, one eye opened and then the other. Suddenly, he flinched back into the corner of the room, hand in the air ready to defend himself. So of course I shot back as far as I could go, watching Serena hold the pole up, ready to fight if she had to. I saw her turn to me for just a second, a glimmer of smugness was held there as if that was her way of saying 'I told you so'. Told you so or not, he was still a human being.

"What-where- who are you?" he asked, creakily getting up, still backed into the corner.

I gulped, looking at Serena, whose mouth was tightly shut, her brow deepened. Sighing I held out my hands trying to calm him.

"I-I'm Lily and this is-this is-"

Serena held her index finger up, prompting me to stop talking. She edged a little closer to the man, his eyes widened.

"Not until you tell us who you are first."

The man blinked, his wrinkled face looking vulnerable and weak, his eyes pleaded with me. My head began to pulse, my hand going to my head again as the inkling feeling that I recognised this man floated through the air. Yes, he defiantly looked familiar...maybe I had seen him in the ministry before...or in Diagon alley, a shop keeper maybe?

"Were you captured too?" he managed to croak, his eyes softening as he clearly remembered where he was, sliding down the wall with a definite thump as he hit the floor.

"Just answer the question and we'll answer yours." Serena still was holding the pole.

"Serena, don't push him." I warned her, trying to make her lower the pole.

The man who at this point was sure I knew shook his head. He looked around, spying a broken plate and bones of a chicken, picking it apart to see if it were still any meat on it. He didn't seem bothered now, not even attempting to try and answer Serena's question.

I sighed, making her lower the pole. "...Yes. We got captured too." I answered finally, receiving a glare from Serena.

It grew silent, the only sound was the pushing aside of the chicken and Serena throwing the pole to the side, not far enough away though so she could still reach if she needed. Her weapon of choice. After a little while though, my eyes locked with the man's, his mouth curving into a smile, a reassuring one.

"I was tortured you see..."he muttered, though I wasn't entirely sure whether I was intended to listen, his eyes over viewing the gashes on his arms. "They don't stop at nothing to get what they want."

A short winded laugh escaped my throat, but not one of humour but one of pure disgust. No-one disserved that. No matter what blood status they were.

"Muggleborns like us shouldn't be treated like this." I thought aloud my fist clenching, my knuckles growing white.

"Us?"

I nodded, an eyebrow rising. "You're not muggleborn?"

The man bit his lip, his head tilting to the side not looking at me. "Pure-blood." He said it with such disgust, as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. If he was pureblood, surely he would be persuaded to join the Deatheaters? So why was he in the same room looking much rougher than two muggleborns who were classed not better than the dirt on their shoes?

He must have noticed my frown as he began to speak.

"My son is a half-blood." He explained.. "I am classed as a blood-traitor."

I lowered my eyes, examining my hands that were balled up. Anger bubbled up within me.

"That's horrible."

He nodded. I looked to my left, seeing Serena stay mute the entire time, scuffing her feet along the floor to pass the time.

"They killed my son." He continued. "They took him away before I got to know him." He muttered under his breath, I had to strain my hearing to see. That's when I knew. Knew exactly who this man was, as the photo realigned into my brain, seeing the article and the crystal ball he had held, his face much plumper in my memory compared to his starved cheekbones and withered light in his eyes.

"So you think you could tell us your name now?" Serena piped up.

But I already knew.

He lowered his eyes then pushed them back up again, narrowing them at Serena clearly seeing her as a threat but didn't have the energy to pursue it. After about a minute he sighed.

"Laurence Jackman."

Well, I thought I already knew.

"No its not." I found myself saying without thinking. "You're Jerome Parley."

He leant back, his attention now gained.

"I can reassure you it's not."

I frowned. "You-you were in the daily prophet...And-and I know-"I gulped correcting myself. "I knew your son. Kevin Hawks."

This time his eyes widened, he rubbed his growing beard in thought before nodding.

"Who are you?" he asked. I knew this wasn't about my name. Even Serena was now interested.

"You came with the aurors to save me." She added, grinding her teeth at the word save. "But you're not an auror. You're too young."

I stayed silent. Jerome clicked his fingers and grinned.

"I remember now...Charlus said to me that the ministry was having work experience students come in to the auror office...you must be one of them." He nodded.

I didn't understand how he knew Mr Potter's first name or what the auror office's plans were, because from what I knew, Jerome Parley was only a seer.

"How do you know all about that?"

He grimaced, now looking ashamed. "Like I said. I'm Lawrence Jackman. I'm an auror."

"No, no you're not." I shook my head, confusion getting the better of me. I thought back to three weeks ago, remembering how McNolly hadn't even bothered to change his appearance, posing as Laurence Jackman and stealing the records in front of our eyes. I remembered how Mr Potter was so sure that it could not have been Laurence Jackman stealing the records as he was dead. But Jerome was breathing...just. "When did they capture you?"

He thought, his head resting on the wall.

"Ahh I don't know...about four weeks ago maybe? It feels like a lifetime."

I gulped at the realisation that had actually never seen what Laurence Jackman looked like as he wasn't in the auror office at the time of our work experience, so I wouldn't know if he was lying or not.

"People can be two people at once you know." He admitted, his voice turning sheepish. And if he was telling the truth, then Kevin Hawk's dad was an auror. Little did he know that his friend the 'little' Matthew McNolly had posed as him less than three weeks ago.

"Why the name change." It wasn't a question. More a statement.

"Why not?"

Fair enough.

Without warning, my leg began to burn as I shoved my hand into my pocket revealing the source. When my fingers made contact with the burning surfboard keying I flinched, dropping it onto the floor, my hand glazing over forming a burn. Jerome or Laurence whatever he wanted to be called got up, his interest gained as well as Serena, all three of us looking at the glowing key-ring that McNolly had dropped for James and I on the beach.

"Get down!" he called, to which Serena and I obeyed, shielding our eyes. The Key-ring began to emit so much light that it could have been the sun, only dying out after the sound of a few new but very familiar voices.

"Lily?"

It was James. James, Mr Potter, Moody and Sirius. Why Sirius I didn't know, but even so, I was glad to see him.

"James?" I asked, not sure if he was real. His face light up, washing over with a mixture of relief and happiness opening his arms and I embraced him, hugging tightly.

"Thank Godric you are alright." He muttered, muttering a thank you. "...You are alright aren't you?" he checked.

"Much better now."

But another reunion was going on across the room, only to be noticed now.

"Laurence...? Is that you my man?" Mr Potter asked.

James scowled, now realising who it was, looking between me and what he knew as Jerome Parley, gawping.

"But-but that's-"

"James, meet Laurence Jackman aka Jerome Parley."

But it was interrupted.

"If I have to come in there again, someone is dead." It was Dogface.

Moody had his wand at the ready.

"Not the time for love-y kissy reunions. Time to get outta here." He growled still with that sarcastic twinge that made him Moody.

"Right." We all agreed. All but Serena, Laurence and I raised their wands ready for the door to unlock. As if right on command, Dogface turned the bolts and key.

"I'm thinking the redheads going to be the first to pick a grave. We are having way too much fun with you aren't we old boy?"

"Over my dead body." I heard James mutter darkly, and at the swing of the door seeing Dogface much too happy smile he raised his wand and spoke the words. "Petrificus Totalus!" to which Dogface didn't have enough time to retaliate, her body freezing and hitting the floor with a loud CRASH!

"Well executed boy." His father patted him on the back. We began to leave the imprisonment, coming out into proper daylight to see somewhere that we recognised.

"This is the ministry."

Our escape didn't go unnoticed, and suddenly out of nowhere a bunch of black smoke arrived, many Deatheaters erupting out of it, wands at the ready.

"Didn't I tell you that we'd get you?"

Of course. Avery and Mulciber stood amongst the ranks, wands armed and looking much too proud of their situation. There were way too many Deatheaters, the odds were unfair really.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell us where the book is." One of the Deatheaters grabbed me by the throat pointing his wand my neck.

"What book?" Moody growled, ready to raise his wand.

"Now, now...no violence here. We don't want Smart one to get in an accident, now do we?"

That was definitely a voice that I recognised. McNolly moved from the crowd of Deatheaters, flipping his wand between his fingers.

"Oh let them play. It'll give us an excuse to have fun with this dirty little Mudblood." This one was Bellatrix Black. I remembered her at Hogwarts years ago, her appearance only slightly altered, her long raven black hair stretched past her chest, her red lips curving into a smile, clearly taunting.

"You dare and I'll-"

She bared a grin at James, winking at Sirius before spitting on him. I swear I saw a vein rise on Sirius head. After all, he was related to her.

"Or you'll what baby face?" She taunted James. "Call him." She suddenly burst out. At this many of the Deatheaters began muttering to each other, a wand still pressed firmly to my neck.

"He won't be pleased you are summoning him for the death of one Mudblood..." one stated, looking slightly fearful.

Bellatrix didn't care, she only insisted. "Then make it two. Call him."

A greasy looking Deatheaters pulled out their arm the dark mark clear for all to see. He began to place his finger onto it.

**Author note: Hmmm not sure about this chapter. Let me know if there is something that doesn't quite make sense, as I will change it. Even so, I hope you enjoyed it! **

**Ickleblueyedwitch.**


	23. Chapter 23 Dragons to Deatheaters

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 23: Dragons to Deatheaters<strong>

"Wait!" James called and at this the greasy looking man halted, his fingers removing from his forearm looking towards Bellatrix for guidance. She scowled, placing her wand towards the side of her blood-red lips, pouting as she sauntered forward, stopping in front of James. She rest her weight mainly on one of her hips, bearing her perfectly aligned teeth with her face merely centimetres from his own.

"Have something you wish to share?" she snarled, my heart leaping into my mouth as she pressed her wand into his cheek, beginning to circle him like a lioness would its prey, it only be a matter of seconds if she wanted to pounce.

He gulped, his fists clenching with his hands digging into his pocket revealing a black book with plenty of papers sticking out of the sides. Immediately when the book came into the light, Bellatrix's eyes widened, the rickety hall we stood in was filled with faint muttering from the Deatheaters, all stretching to get a glimpse of the book.

"This what you want?" he asked, standing on the tips of his toes making sure that his voice was projected to each and every ear in the room. At this, the Deatheaters moved forwards in one wave as James raised it above his head. And with a smirk he said "Go fetch." And with all of his force he lent back, and threw the book as far as he could across the hall, it hitting the sides of the wall and sliding across the floor. The man who previously held a wand to my neck threw me aside, causing me to land on my chest, a stinging pain withered through my ribs, only for a pair of arms to hoist me up to my feet again.

"I can't believe you just did that!" I hissed, looking up at James who appeared not to be listening, only hooking his arm into mine and dragging me across the hall with a much understandable urgency. "That was Kevin's book, wasn't it?"

"Just trust me."

He appeared to be searching for something, at the same time as I was consciously aware of the fact that Deatheaters wouldn't be distracted by the book for long. But there! There it was, James's face lit up at the sight of this, mine only falling as Matthew McNolly appeared out of nowhere riding the broom that James and Sirius had drooled over that day in Diagon alley, heading straight toward us. I began to thrash away from James's grip, desperate to get away at any cost as McNolly landed swiftly in front of us, James smiling.

"NO. No, I am not going with _you_!" I thrashed, James holding onto me, his grip tightening.

"Lily." He pleaded now, causing me to stop for a second. "Lily, you have to trust me."

"_You_ I trust, it's him I don't!"

"Please, just get on the broom. "

My eyes widened. Mouth opening.

"He is a deatheater, James! Wake up!" I hissed.

At this James sighed and without my consent lifted me up on the the broom behind McNolly, himself getting on behind me, holding his arms around my waist to make sure my protests were kept at a minimum. As McNolly's foot pushed off of the ground, the Deatheaters heads spun around, Bellatrix screeching as she threw the book onto the ground and pressed her foot onto it, her fists clenching.

"You filthy little-" her screeches were getting harder to hear as we rose higher and higher, and I came to the realisation that McNolly didn't appear to have any intention of stopping, my eyes sealing together as he crashed through the roof as full speed.

"James! Your Dad, what about your dad—and Sirius?" I spoke what I was thinking, looking down as the flashes of red, blue and green coming from wands.

"They will be fine."

This sounded most unlike him, if not for the forcing me to ride a broom, appearing to trust McNolly and now leaving his best friend and father on the ground where at this point, at least 30 Deatheaters surrounded them.

"What is wrong with you?" I called over the sound, realising that we had crashed through onto a floor of the ministry and that by any standards raised cause for concern, alarms now ringing, echoing their way through the cold and clammy stone halls. The main source of light coming from the red alarm bells, three different corridors with signs that encouraged me to believe we were on level 4: Department for the regulation and care of magical creatures.

McNolly halted the broom abruptly, tipping it up so James and I slid off of the end, but this time I was quicker, my fingers wrapping round his wand that was sticking out of McNolly's back pocket lifting it, getting a feel of the weight before pointing it at him.

"Ah." He could only say, as he turned around, grasping hold of the broomstick and leaning against it. From the tone of his voice I could see that he didn't see me as much of a threat, treating it as though he merely misplaced something and had casually found it lying on the ground rather than what was the reality.

"Lily, please." James muttered, as if it were an order.

I ignored this, not feeling in the mood to obey orders. "There's something not right here. I know it."

"Lily, put down the wand."

"Why?" I said, turning it through my fingers.

Now agitated wasn't even the word, Matthew McNolly kept looking behind us, as did I, knowing full well that danger of _more_ Deatheaters was around the corner. James now pulled out his wand, pointing it at me.

"Lily, this is for your own good. We need to get you out of here."

"I am not going with him." I announced, and at this moment McNolly's wand was used in defence, as James shouted "Expelliarmus!" at me, my only choice was to retaliate. But using McNolly's wand had its disadvantages, it clearly knowing that I wasn't its master not playing to my strengths. We both lower red our wands, chests rising and falling.

"Look, he's on our side!"

I laughed, shaking my head with my green eyes narrowing looking McNolly up and down.

"Why don't I believe that?"

I didn't have much time to think, a faint crack from down the hall signalled that.

"MCNOLLY? You have something of ours!"

Bellatrix. By the sounds of things she didn't appear to be alone. But this floor wasn't such a maze as it appeared, the three corridors each with their signs hanging above and grabbing James's wrist, and reluctantly ushering McNolly to follow giving him his wand like in a relay race, we headed swiftly down the beast division, coming face to face with a ridiculous idea. In front of us, small and dainty stood the dragon that had almost killed me, curled up in a tight ball as if it couldn't hurt a fly, but McNolly had been here also, and frankly didn't seem to far away from my wavelength.

"...Oh bloody hell we aren't riding this thing, are we...?" James asked, his voice rising higher with disbelief.

"MCNOLLY!" Bellatrix's shrill bounced off of the walls, reaching our ears with a ringing sound. She was laughing, acting if this was all too easy. We waited, if not only for a minute until we could see their shadows, and their guard was lessened, thinking that they had cornered us like circus animals.

"Gotcha." McNolly smiled, unlatching the dragons cage with force setting it onto the floor and shouting "Engorgio!" to which the dragon grew dramatically in size, back how remembered it with its beady yellow eyes nonchalantly looking around the room. In the moment it seemed a little confused and spatially unaware, his head crashing against the glowering red light bulb, breaking it and shaking its head to dust off the shards of glass like a dog would shake off water.

"Come on boy." I whispered to it, as Bellatrix's shadow got closer. "Do us proud."

It saw me, a flicker of recollection fled through its brain, its pupil getting smaller. As it began to get closer to me, McNolly sighed, raising his wand.

"Reducto!" he whispered, a short crack hit the dragons scales. At its boisterous roar, McNolly pushed both James, himself and I back into the cage, shutting the door only slightly. Here was the best seat in the house to watch our silent plan unfold, the dragons temper flaring, smashing its head against the walls, breaking all protections that were in place making its way forwards, straight into the hands of the unsuspecting Deatheaters.

"DRAGON!" a male deatheater shouted.

"MCNOLLY! YOU HAVE MADE A GRAVE MISTAKE BETRAYING THE DARK LORD! He shall have no _mercy_!" Bellatrix laughed, firing spell at the dragon, their shadows indicating that they were backing away. McNolly although looking greatly relieved pulled up his sleeve and took off his hat, looking down at the dark mark before clenching his fists and reopening the cage door for us to walk out.

"Let's go." He sighed placing his cap onto his balding head, grinning with his patchy beard and scarred face.

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><p>Even though I had escaped potentially being slaughtered by Deatheaters with the help Matthew McNolly, even though we had just landed in a heap on a beach from apparition, finding a cafe and McNolly producing muggle money to pay for food and drinks, I couldn't bring myself to trust him. Above it all, I couldn't believe that James did. Or that he could eat at the thought of not knowing the fate of Moody, Sirius and Mr Potter. It was perhaps something we were going to disagree on.<p>

"Not hungry?"

I lifted up my head, seeing that McNolly was sitting opposite me and James, pointing to my bowl of chips. I pushed them away, folding my arms and ignoring the snort that came out of McNolly's mouth as he took one of my chips and placed it wholly in his mouth, chewing loudly.

I grit my teeth together, leaning back in the chair and trying to calm myself down. The scenery was the best distraction; my only hope was that I would come back here in better circumstances. The small cafe, barely could be called a cafe-more like a shed- was blue and white, had old fashioned shutters with small hearts engraved into the wood. Above there as a canopy, red and white if you should know, flapping in the breeze that was beginning to pick up from the sea, each wave licking the sand and retracting again, like you'd imagine. It was just like the beach from my childhood, the occasional holidays my family would take, Petunia and me playing dollies on the sand while the sun crept down, emitting orange flames leaking all over the skyline...Petunia used to say that it was called a Sitting-sun. Close, but not quite.

"Goin' to stretch my legs. Be back in a tick." I was awoken very abruptly by McNolly, eking out of his chair, wobbling the little glass table we were at and slumping off down the beach, stretching his arms in his brown coat that was ripped to shreds.

Once he was a little was down the beach, James turned to me.

"What's wrong? You haven't eaten a thing." He gestured to my now cold bowl of chips.

"I just am struggling to believe this."

"What, that he is on our side?" I nodded, not meeting his eyes. He shook his head, moving from sitting beside me, sliding into McNolly's seat opposite me—his attempt at trying to meet my eyes. "Look, I am sorry for the way I reacted in the ministry...I was..." he paused.

"You were what, James?"

"Scared...okay. I said it. Scared that we weren't going to make it out alive or that McNolly wasn't going to find the broom or get there fast enough..."

I narrowed my eyes, just for a second placing my hands into James's which lay out on the table, his head dropped. But then it hit me, causing me to retract my hands back into my own lap. At this, he raised his head, shame wiped from his face as he pushed up his fractured glasses, dark brows directed downwards.

"How did you know he was going to do that?"

James sighed, shoving his hands through his hair. "Because it was the plan."

"Plan? What plan?" I got up now, beginning to pace, arms crossed.

"Look Lily, you have to believe me, when you got captured McNolly was ready to fully change allegiances."

"What do you mean 'fully'?"

This time he got up too, taking me by the arms.

"Lily, you know he always was a step ahead, always giving us hints and trying to get us on the right track?" To this I nodded sceptically. James began to pace, leaving me static only my eyes watching his every move, his every step. "Well, my dad knew that if he changed allegiances too fast, then Voldemort would get suspicious."

"Wait, your dad _knew about _him?"

"Yes...well sort of. It was only about after the second time we received the records from McNolly the aurors captured him and got him to sing like a canary. He's been collecting information for the aurors, but secretly trying to prevent muggleborn deaths by giving us the records-"

"-Thinking that no one would suspect two scrawny little 16 year olds." McNolly finished the explanation, his hands in his coat pockets, the bottom of his trousers and shoes were wet. Someone had been paddling.

"Then how do you explain what you did in the woods on the 9th?" McNolly nodded slowly, taking off his moth-bitten hat again, not answering my question. "Or that dragon. It could have killed someone."

"Brain-box has all the questions and no answers..." he tutted. " Shame that?"

"Or Petunia."

"Whoa...your sister? What has she got to do with any of this?" James butted in. I had not told him about the threat that McNolly had made that night on the ninth, how he had made me believe that something had happened to my sister.

"Well...I didn't lie."

"Yes you did. I rang her and she was fine."

At this McNolly's mouth formed a perfect circle, but not out of shock, it was out of excitement the sides of his lips tugging into a smile, the circle still formed. He clapped his hands together.

"Did she tell you where she was...when she was missing? I bet not. Probably wouldn't remember."

Although I had the least of sympathy for Petunia when she was in my company, her taunts, her name-calling and her tainted jealousy, I still couldn't stand the idea of someone hurting her. I could still remember the little girl on the beach when I was a child...that was the girl who I was willing to fight for. At this, I dug into my pocket forgetting for a split second that I was wand-less.

"You jerk." I shouted, losing all grip on reality or any of the story that James had told me, balling my fist and in two strides and one swing I felt my fist penetrate against his face with a CRACK!

"Awouh!"

He bent over, yet there were still traces of a snide grin lingering on his face as he got up. His nose was beginning to release blood, pain seething through my own fist, trying to show just how much it stung.

"Look, the both of you stop it." James pushed us apart, still very confused.

"He can't be trusted James! Why can't you see that?"

"Look, I believe what my Dad told me."

I growled, fists clenching, kicking myself for not remembering. Of course Mr Potter would tell James that. Because he never got out from the imperious curse.

"James, the imperious curse. Your dad has been flickering in and out for weeks."

He retracted like I had hit him.

"N-No. He wouldn't put us in danger like that...I know it."

"If he was, he wouldn't even remember saying it."

We both turned to McNolly, him now smiling, his nose a bloody-mess.

"Brilliantly thought out that theory. Too bad we aren't going to get enough time to tell you the rest." A green flash of light was directed at me, McNolly pushing the both of us out of the way, landing in a heap. My first thought was Matthew McNolly had just saved me –us- again. Second was that was pure terror. I expected it to be Bellatrix, or maybe one of the other cronies not for me to look up over a table to see a man...had to be a man...wearing a long flowing cape, a white waxy face yet still handsome, dark hair and eyes , yet hungry for blood and slits in place on his nostrils. A sight I had hoped to never lay eyes on in person.

**Author note: Hey again, it's me. Anyways, firstly it came to my attention this week that this story has gained 100 reviews...What? Insanity. That is what that is. But seriously, I want to thank you if you have reviewed. It's great to have such a response from readers :)**

** Secondly, this chapter is very...annoying...from the fact that I had to try and link things together meaning that it may make sense to me but not to you. If this is the case, please tell me and I will try and fix it :)**

**Phew...that was **_not_** a note that was a novel.**

**Ickleblueeyedwitch. **


	24. Chapter 24 Lord Voldemort

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 24: Lord Voldemort.<strong>

"Give me the book!" he roared over the crashing of the waves, his voice like no other; it was silky and effortless like his pearl white skin that shone under the light, hollowed and corpse like. Cheekbones that stood out, as if the finest layer of his skin was stretched tightly over them...yet he was human. Just. The distant hissing perhaps could make anyone consider otherwise.  
>McNolly however appeared very unsettled by his master's sudden appearance, the smirk that had previously stained his bearded face was no more, replaced by shining eyes and a thirst for thrill. I dared not raise my head any further over the table, knowing full well that any movement the enemy saw would be an immediate cause of destruction. In those few seconds that I was able to feel real fear thunder through these bones, I tried to picture the faces of my family, determination battling against the ice cold fear. But what could I do? I was wand-less, and being wand-less against the greatest dark wizard that may have ever lived wasn't really an ideal situation. Rather the opposite.<br>"Dare to oppose me?" Voldemort hissed. Following this was an unearthly loud bang, the small glass table that had been 'protecting' us burst into flames.

McNolly backed away, falling over but continuing to crawl backward, only for Voldemort to slither his way behind him, wand raised and face stretched showing pleasure.  
>James grabbed me by the waist, seizing the moment and tugging me away, using his arms as a shield fumbling for his wand. Only, Voldemort was quicker; James's wand clattered to the floor as did his body, mine copying like a punctured doll and within a split second our hands flew straight towards our heads, hands clawing for our heads to be released. It was like nothing you could imagine, his voice was even worse when it was penetrating your mind, scratching its way through every memory, every thought and every feeling I had ever had, my eyes clamping shut for relief, only for this to strengthen the grip he had on us. I forced my eyelids open, his voice continuing throughout my head-his mouth not even moving, wand still rose at McNolly. It was clear that his cold eyes were doing the talking.<br>"What is this I see? Love? Pah!" although he I couldn't see, I felt him spit. "A challenge. That's what it is to him." the images I saw changed, turning to and fro from the many times that James had tried to impress me with his arrogance, 3rd year when he started asking me out, my many refusals replayed into front of me. "A challenge... a pride-driven duty."  
>Now there were images of inside Hogwarts- to be specific the Gryffindor boys dormitory - with 3 Marauders and a few other boys lounging on the beds, some sitting on top of the backs of chairs, others jumping on the beds. This had to be 4th year. Suddenly, the memory rippled like a stone had been thrown, the whispery image showed the door of the dormitory creeping open and a 14 year old James slumping through, looking slightly defeated. As soon as he saw there was company, his chest inflated puffing out and he walked confidently over to his bed and flopped onto it, hands behind his head.<br>"Oi, look who it is, Jamesey-boy is back!" this time it was a 14 year old Sirius, his hair was shorter but still waved out to the sides, and around his head he wore one of the woollen Gryffindor scarves and was grinning whist rocking on a chair, only two of its legs on the ground. In the bed next to James sat dear Remus, his hair a little long yet those same kind eyes and scars, only putting his book down to sit up and listen to what James had to say.  
>"Did she notice?" asked Peter Pettigrew, coming out from under Sirius's bed holding a chocolate frog that was squirming in his thick childish claws.<br>James snorted. "Yeah, she did."  
>"I should bloody well hope so you twit." Sirius ruffled James's hair. "You've been talking nonstop about showing her since the holiday!"<br>Remus sighed, chucking Sirius a packet of Bertie Botts- distracting him.  
>"Well? What did she say?"<br>"Yeah, did she say yes this time?"  
>James's eyes lowered for a fraction of a second, a shadow of disappointment crossing over him, only for him to push it away and replace it with the same cocky grin.<br>"She didn't did she?" Sirius guessed through chewing.  
>"Well...no, but-"<br>Sirius smirked. "You should just give up mate. I told you, if the hair doesn't win her over-"  
>James ignored him, moving over to the mirror and messing up his hair. At first glance you may well have not noticed, but yes, there was something different about him. His hair...his hair was combed. And not only that it was a little longer, swooping across his forehead. I remembered this day... Potter had acted very strange so I had thought; his combed hair, his manners, and his accent. It was as if he was...Jonathan Wright! The Ravenclaw boy I had once- a long time ago, yes - had had a crush on.<br>"Ah, look mate, this is the..." Sirius stopped to think, using his fingers to count. "Too many times to count how many times she has said no. There'd be plenty of girls who'd love to go out with my best mate-not this phony!" Sirius jumped up, and put James in a headlock, messing up his hair good and proper this time, so it returned to how to usually looked.  
>"What are you, my mother?" James asked, grinning and pushing Sirius's head.<br>"I resent that!"  
>Over in the corner Remus sighed, closing his book for good this time and making his way over, followed shortly by Peter.<br>"...He's right you know."  
>Sirius looked most smug at being right, his expression altering once he saw James's face.<br>"I'm not giving up you know. She'll have to crack eventually." he sounded, as though he was reassuring himself more than anything.

Things changed again, swirling into a new image. This time they were younger, if only by a year, the screeching inside my head grew louder as the scene stretched out into my view, seeing yet another scene, the Hogwarts express with the 4 Marauders in their usual compartment.

"Best buddy Evans is aboard!" Sirius cupped a hand over his mouth, making his speech hollowed. James's head shot up, trying to compose himself as a 13 year old me walked past the compartment, beside me of course was Marlene and Alice, now stopping and waving at the boys. This I remembered too, and because of this, I knew full well that I continued walking, going to find Severus and ignoring James's distant wave. "If I must say, you just got blanked."

Sirius and Peter both shouted "Burn!" high fiving each other, causing James to punch them both in the arms.

"Shut up!"

"Look, she's been hating on you for two years now, don't 'Shut up me!' "

James narrowed his eyes. "She doesn't hate me...I think."

At this, Remus tittered a little from the corner, putting his book down.

"Does too." Sirius folded his arms.

"Doesn't. And I'll prove it."

"Fine, Jamesey-poo, I bet you can't get her to go out with you once, on a proper date."

James thought about this a little, his finger drumming on his trouser legs. "Terms?"

"If you get her to go on a date with you once before the end of 7th year, I sir, will run around Hogwarts wearing only my long johns."

Remus smirked again, lowering his book a little. "They aren't very good terms. You've done that willingly before!"

For this he got smacked in the head.

"And if I don't?"

Sirius shrugged. "Then you don't get Evans to fancy you. Simple as."

The images folded again, Voldemort's voice returning.

"Love driven by pride. After all, how could he love you? Filthy vile Mudblood." It echoed, like nails tugging against a chalkboard, my fingers digging into my skull.

"Stop..." I muttered.

"Mudblood." James was now muttering, no, chanting along with the others, Marlene and Alice joining in and of course Severus. They continued to chant hateful things in my ear, Voldemort's cackles echoing in the background until finally it seized to a halt, the images draining taking my consciousness with it.

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><p>When I came back into a sense of reality, my vision was blurred the steady movement made my head jolt back and forth, only to be dropped onto the floor. My head hurt so terribly, the pain surging through me like electricity but this seemed to numb once I regained full consciousness.<p>

"We know you have it, you blood traitor!" A woman's screech. Bellatrix. A boy lay on the floor, his body twitching as he tried to push himself off of the ground. "Crucio!" Bellatrix yelled, her teeth bearing as the boy began to squirm, his body withering, his screams filling my ears.

"Come now Bellatrix, we must serve our other guest as well." The soft voice replaced her screeches, my eyes moving upwards to spot Voldemort sitting on what looked like a throne, white hands placed together, watching the torture as though it were a sport.

"James...?" I whispered, groggy as my head moved around feeling heavy.

"Yes my lord." I heard Bellatrix say, and almost instantly I felt my body being lifted from the ground, pair of hands was gripping my elbows, dragging me to the centre of the stone room, the dim light now letting me see the boy properly. It was James. His poor body looked beaten and broken—yet he still battled on. "Get up." Bellatrix barked at him. He obeyed, wobbly getting to his feet, teeth gritted. I also found myself rising, the grip lessening, my own legs having to hold up my weight by themselves, unsure of how well they would suffice.

Voldemort looked at us for a second, dark eyes looking us up and down as if we were pieces of meat, stood in front of him like peasants would to a king.

"My friends, here lies the problem that stands in the way of all of our answers to the future. You see the boy..." He paused smirking at James. "...thought he was being terribly clever keeping the book from us. The book that tells us whether we achieve what we set out to accomplish."

There were hoards of moans, clustering together as if someone had held up a sign to command them.

"...But of course, _I _know better. _My _level of intelligence beats any of his, or his feeble counterparts. My knowledge has even beaten that of Kevin Hawks, who mistakenly thought that he could keep secrets from me._ I_ see everything!" Voldemort boasted.

"You see what you want to see." James muttered angrily.

"Oh? He speaks." Voldemort played up his crowd. "Better fix that." He raised his wand, eyes bloodshot as he shouted. "CRUCIO!"

James hit the ground, body withering again. I fought to hold back the tears, my knees hitting the ground clutching his hand in mine, my eyes desperately trying not to let their guard down. I had to be strong. For both of us.

"STOP!" I begged, kicking myself for doing so, Voldemort's wand dropped slowly, his mouth a little open a displeased groan creeping out.

"Get up." He barked, turning around, black cape flowing behind him. "How dare you speak to me you filthy Mudblood!" It was my turn. I knew that as soon as I had begged. Voldemort swiftly turned on his heel, squaring me up. "Let's see how the filthy little Mudblood fares against the feared Lord Voldemort."

It was a challenge, but by the looks of things he was putting on a show. Knowing full well I was going to lose.

"I presume you know how to duel, yes?" he laughed at his own little dig. "Someone find her a wand. I want to see the whites of her eyes die out with a wand in her hand." It was like clockwork, and in about an instant my wand, yes mine, was forced into my hand, the warmth creeping into my fingertips. I tried to calm my trembling body down, concentration being something that on usual terms I would have succeed on, but today was different. I was scared out of my wits but was determined not to show him that.

"Bow for the Dark Lord." It wasn't a question from Bellatrix, or an order I would have unusually obeyed but I felt a force on my stomach force me to bend and come up again, the feeling of twenty small knives had just been forced into my stomach.

"That's it. Now, we begin."

I took a deep breath in, savouring every last taste of being alive, looking at James who lay on the floor only just conscious.

"STUPEFY!" I shouted, choosing to fly first, wand waving. But as soon as the spell had left my wand had Voldemort deflected it. He laughed, the Deatheaters copying.

"Pathetic. A schoolgirl spell chosen by one who shouldn't even be in my presence." He spat, moving over to James and nudging him with his foot.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!" I yelled protectively. "DON'T YOU EVEN-"

I was stopped immediately, a hand slapping around my face with a CLAP!

"How dare you speak to the Dark Lord like that?" Bellatrix screeched in my ear, her hand tugging at my hair, pain wincing through my scalp.

Voldemort waved her away, but not before she had spat on me.

"Come now, we haven't even finished our duel. We can't have that can we?"

I didn't get a choice. Our wands were raised again, my heart beating, thumping against my chest at full speed.

"CRUCIO!" he barely whispered before the red jet of light shot of of his wand. I did my best, my eyes clamping shut as I dodged out of the way, the red bolt hitting the stone wall, causing it it crumble a little.

"Petrificus Totalus!" I shouted back, Voldemort's eyes narrowing, deflecting my spell with ease. He clearly didn't expect me to dodge his hit.

"My Lord, let me." Bellatrix pleaded, practically bowing at his feet. He kicked her away.

"Expelliarmus!" I shouted at Voldemort, him only to deflect it again, taking a step closer to me. He clearly now had blood on his mind.

"You dare-"

"STUPEFY!"

A new voice. No, James's voice. And at this, Voldemort tripped back at the unexpected attack, his body wobbling but not falling. James got up shakily but still sturdy enough, wand at the ready as was mine.

We didn't expect Voldemort to begin to laugh.

Our wands immediately fell to the floor as if they were commanded to without one wave of his wand, walking over to us he flicked his wand causing James and I to stick together, back's facing each other. Our breathing lessened, as if a rope was condensing round the both of us, Voldemort grinning with pleasure as we tried to lessen the grip of the invisible ripe, fumbling around for it. And then it stopped. Just like that.

"Stupidity to try and face me. Or bravery, but what's the difference?" he spat, getting closer and encircling us like we were his prey. No, we _were_ his prey. "But, nevertheless I commend it."

"My Lord-"

Bellatrix fell to the ground from a flick of his wand. Silenced for the moment.

"I don't disagree with my fellow friends, that I should kill you...but...I am not keen on spilling magical blood that can be of some use. Even dirty blood can be used." His eyes were directed at me this time, so intense and threatening that they were like a spotlight making me squirm. "So I am going to only make this offer once."

"But, my Lord-"

Silenced again.

"Join me in conquering the world, or be conquered."

**Author note: Hello again! I hope this chapter was alright, as I wasn't entirely sure how to describe Voldemort in this scene as I am not really sure of what his physical state was in this time period and my research led me to this, so I did my best.**

**Thank-you for reading!**

**IckleblueeyedWitch**


	25. Chapter 25 Thy decisions rest with thee

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 25: Thy decisions rest with thee. <strong>

"_Join me in conquering the world, or be conquered."_

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><p>An ultimatum that was hidden quite deep under a threat that was meant to shock us, make us think about our lives and how short lived they were, how much we hadn't experienced, beg and plead and most of all, bind us to him for as long as he lived if we chose life. A contract as it were. Well, for as long as he needed us and then what? Torture? Kill us anyway? Yes, even if we chose to live...what life would it be?<p>

I took a deep breath, eyes skittishly slipping sideways, discreetly looking at James for support. He (like me) gulped, back straight and proud. Like a man... yes for the first time -even though he was beaten raw, his clothes were ripped and burnt and his glasses needed badly repairing – James Potter looked like a man.

I stepped forward, Voldemort now back sat in his throne, head resting on his bony knuckles.

"I would rather die than join you and your sick Deatheaters." I told him, my voice shaking a little at the end.

His face changed, a more solid expression mirroring his actions; slowly easing out of the chair and circling James.

"Now boy, don't make a silly mistake like the little Mudblood. She doesn't see what you could have, the riches and the power, the world ridded of unworthy blood so only those who really have power can claim what is rightfully ours!" he hissed, the crowd of Deatheaters cheering at this. With the rise of one finger, they died down immediately, all eyes on James anticipating his answer. "What will it be, boy?"

James sighed, putting his hands in his pockets whilst narrowing his eyes. Slowly his mouth began to curve, a twisted smirk moulding until it was a full blown smile. I didn't understand why he was smiling...until he spat on the floor in front of Voldemort.

Then rage wasn't even the word.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Bellatrix ripped into him without warning, taking out her wand, her fist grabbing the material on James's t-shirt and thrusting him against the stone wall. She then raised her wand towards his neck, James struggling now, kicking and attempting to throw punches at her, his hands reaching for his wand –and failing to do so. Her dark eyes were now bloodshot, the lines in her pale forehead looked permanent; destroying her immediate beauty as she began to mutter "AVADA-"

Only for her to be thrown aside. Bellatrix landed sprawled out on her back without any incantation being said, only for Voldemort to stride over to James and lift him by the neck. I bit into my own tongue as I watched James squirm, his hands clawing for his own neck-his struggle for oxygen.

"G-h-u-h" James squeaked, slowly losing consciousness making Voldemort's eyes budge out, his teeth bearing showing enjoyment.

"STOP! Please, don't hurt him, I'll do anything! Kill me if you have to, but not him, let him live!" The flurry of words had escaped into the open air before I could even process them, along with my wet cheeks from the tears that I did not know were falling. At first I wasn't sure whether it would make any difference, Voldemort's grip seemed to get tighter around James's neck, his face turning a sickly purple colour but, after a few seconds Voldemort dropped James causing him the thud against the cold stone floor.

Voldemort turned slightly, half of his face in my direction glowing in the candlelight. He wasn't grinning anymore. It was that blank expression that sent me flying across the room, my head smacking against the wall. I felt the back of my head, my red hair even more so, bringing my hand back into view showed blood. I turned my head to face him, wincing at the fast movement as he glided over to me, my eyes slowly aware that Bellatrix was getting up from the corner the other Deatheaters not daring to intervene.

"Avery, Mulciber...bring our guests out to play." He muttered lips barely moving. I wasn't sure whether his hiss was loud enough for them to hear, but no, without a shadow of a doubt they heard; the two boys scuttling out of the crowd and up a wooden stairway that seemed to emerge from the bricks. It took a few minutes for them to reappear, but when they did nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

"No...No...No..." I muttered under my breath sitting up and dragging my knees up to my chest, my body turning to jelly as I noted one of the two they were carrying, or struggling to carry. "Petunia..."

She was thrashing about alright, but even with her weak punches and screams she wasn't getting very far, Avery smacking her round the head until she became quiet, then placing her and this other boy into he centre of the rounded room. Petunia looked a mess, even skinnier than usual with her long neck craning to see around the room, her eyes wide like a deer—frightened and telescopic. Although you couldn't see them, it appeared that both Petunia and the boy had shackles around their feet and hands, perhaps similar to the rope that had constricted the breathing of James and I, but I hoped not. I prayed not.

"You say you'll do anything to preserve the price of the boy..." Voldemort turned to look at James, grinning menacingly at the heap that he now was, back leaning against the wall looking exhausted. "I've seen your hopes and dreams; I've seen what you claim as love." He spat the word love. "So prove it."

I got up with rickety legs.

"I don't have to prove anything to you."

Voldemort's lips curved up, bearing his teeth like an animal that was giving warning, a slight hiss releasing from his lips. He glided across the floor once more, black cape trailing along with him almost with some elegancy, picking up James by the scruff of his t-shirt.

"You'll do it. You'll torture them." It was spoken casually, but had all the intentions behind it. "Or you'll die."

Even from here I could see James trying to hold his tongue, teeth grinding together as Voldemort let him drop, gliding his way over to his throne the Deatheaters becoming more vocal, like a small crowd at a Quidditch match.

"Come on! DO it!"

"...Lily?" Petunia whimpered as I limped into the light, closer to her and the boy. Up close didn't make things any better either. I didn't recognise the boy, but by any standards he would be quite handsome without all of the bruises all over his ebony skin, a tight mass of curls over his head and a scar curving over his right eyebrow. He didn't even flinch when I neared, unlike Petunia who was now crying.

"Just do it..." he sighed. He had to be muggleborn.

I raised my wand, looking at the markings that were carved into it, for a moment aware of what was at stake. My life was at stake. That was clear.

"No." I turned twirling my wand in my fingers, walking away from the Petunia and the boy. "Do what you will but I am not laying a finger on the two of them."

Bellatrix wasn't giving up so easy though, she dashed to her master's side, black mane flying behind her, eyes wide and pleading as she said. "My Lord, I can make her if you so wish."

Voldemort considered this, his fingers drumming against each other as he watched the scene play out. "No. Not yet." He nodded in her direction, making Bellatrix's head shrink like a turtles neck, retracting into the shadows as she had been commanded. "You refuse?"

"You heard." I sounded much more confident than in reality.

Getting up again Voldemort headed over to me, black-as-night cape contrasting with his ghostly skin, a walking corpse raising his wand. "Such a shame, you could have been some use to me."

"NO!" As if he had known, Voldemort's lips crept into a smile at James's call, raising his wand. "Lily, do as he says."

My brows immediately directed downwards, mouth gaping a little as I couldn't believe my ears. James was asking me to torture my sister and this boy to preserve my own life.

"What...?" I asked him.

James looked distraught, but kept his mouth straight as he replied "Do it for me."

"No. Over my dead body!" I shouted, not really sure who I was shouting at.

"That can be arranged."

About half of Voldemort's Deatheaters crowded around me, drowning out James's calls and attempts to reach me, my conflicted feelings alerting me that I didn't even want him to; claustrophobia climbing in as the Deatheaters surrounded me. On instinct I raised my wand but knew full well that I didn't stand a chance and that at this point there was no one to save me.

No McNolly to take the hit, for wherever he was I wasn't sure. Dead? I hadn't seen him since before I had blacked out. But that didn't mean I wasn't going out without a fight.

"Serpensortia!"

But it wasn't the Deatheaters nor Voldemort that were going to harm me it would seem, a strong elongated hiss penetrated the sound barriers followed by a large serpent with the thickness of a man's thigh, scaly skin that was almost amphibian not to mention the eyes. There were four, its neck splitting down the middle forming two strong necks on one body, and shortly followed by two heads, a soft hiss and the necks intertwined one another. It slid between the legs of the Deatheaters, some backing away, giving it some room as its heads arose from the floor, looking at one another with bold unblinking eyes, yellow and hungry until finally cornering me like a target.

My own eyes widened at the sight, heart thumping so hard it could be mistaken as trying to escape my ribcage, knowing as their mouths opened that I was in trouble, long forked tongue slipping in and out of its mouth as if it was waiting for the call. The Deatheaters split in half, creating a human-hallway enabling Voldemort to see the spectacle from his throne.

With lips curving and with the slightest of breath Voldemort uttered "Now..."

Then it attacked.

It shot forward almost instantly only for me to move slightly out of the way, the heads going in opposite directions both hitting the stone wall, causing small pieces of rubble to dust from the ceiling of the stone room. Getting to my feet, I took out my wand; the snake following me, moving against the floor as my feet travelled my body back, not having time to look where I was going before another strike, this time one of the fangs catching on my wrist.

At the last minute I Threw stone at one of the heads, the other looking delirious and confused...yet I had only hit one of the heads with the stone, the other I had expected to strike.

"Joined emotions..." I muttered, raising my wand and shouting "Wingardium Leviosa!" the double-headed snake lifting off of the cold floor, its heads flailing around with animosity. With a flick of my wand to my left, the snake shot left crashing into the side of the wall, the Deatheaters backing away from the fight.

With the snake distracted, I headed for the stairs shouting "Relashio!" the invisible shackles around Petunia and the boy's and feet releasing. The boy began to rise, rubbing his wrists he didn't waste any time charging over to Avery and punching him in the face.

"Ugh!" Avery whimpered, bending over which the opportunity for me to kick him somewhere unpleasant if I do say so myself arrived and was taken, the boy grabbing Avery's wand that was sticking out of his robe, our backs coming together protecting Petunia. She on the other hand was still crying, not being of any help.

This if anything made Voldemort get up, using brute force to push his Deatheaters out of the way making his way over to us wand raised, before muttering the same obscure language he had earlier, causing the snake to reappear looking bigger and stronger than before. If it was possible it had two more sets of fangs.

"If you think that my friends and I are letting you get out of here alive, then you must be naive."

The Deatheaters began circling us at their command, each taking out their wands-and there must have been about 15 of them – all even more angry than before.

"Dance for me." One of them laughed, a red spark of light hitting me causing me to feel excruciating pain, as though bolts of lightning were swimming around my heart, my whole body shutting down.

"Enough." Voldemort commanded. "We have had our fun."

He raised his wand, a girl's terrified face reflected in his dark brown eyes, only for me to realise it was my own. I tried to rectify my expression trying to bring forth a drop of bravery, but it appeared to have been used up earlier in fighting the snake.

"You dare and I swear I will burn every last page of this book, so help me I will."

It was a girl's voice. A girl with dusty brown spiky shoulder length hair with electric blue jagged tips, a girl who was standing on the arms of Voldemort's chair, her red lace-up pumps holding her legs up, a girl who was holding Kevin Hawks sketch book high in the air with her wand aimed at it. Cassie. Cassie in her fuchsia Ramones T-shirt, confronting Lord Voldemort. There wasn't a more welcome sight.

He laughed his cruel hollow titter. "Foolish girl." And pulled an identical black book from out of his robes.

"No good laughing at me-although many do as I have been told I am quite the catch-" she lost track for a second coming back to her point. "You can laugh all you want, but I am still going to burn it. All of your precious little secrets along with it."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Ignore the stupid girl."

Cassie however had taught many of us at the ministry including the great Alastor Moody that she wasn't to be ignored, hopping onto only one of the arms of the chair now, and shrugging as she pulled out a page of the book, even from here showing a detailed sketch. She put the tip of her wand to the bottom left corner of the page, the end catching alight the flames already starting to consume it.

"You dare challenge the great Lord Voldemort?" he asked, and even though he was still confident his voice had changed, my belief that he was now feeling threatened. My suspicions were proved correct as he discreetly opened his own book, flicking through it.

"But this one has the real sketches in it!" A male Deatheaters yelled, laughing to himself, only for there to be a green flash of light and him to hit the floor in front of my feet.

"You foolish girl, as that idiot stated, I have the real book. This girl is a fraud!" Voldemort told his followers, arms raised in apparent triumph.

But apparently this wasn't to silence Cassie. Nothing ever would.

"Oh...well let's see here. Oh yes, silly me. There are two books." She began to laugh. My gut sank, she couldn't be serious? The one thing that could have saved us was the burning of that book but...Cassie had messed it up. Just like Moody always said she would.

But oh how I was wrong, Cassie elegantly hopped onto the back of the chair, how she was managing to balance I had no clue, still laughing like a school girl at her mistake.

"I have no time for this insufferable madness!" he raged, aiming his wand at Cassie.

"-Silly me." She continued, seeming to be not at all fazed or scared of Voldemort, which could be confused foolish or brave. "Two books eh? That obviously means one of them is fake."

This got Voldemort listening, lowering his wand.

"That would be yours you fool." He stated, but now it seemed he was convincing himself more than Cassie. He couldn't frighten her, and that was what was annoying him.

She smirked, giggling as if he had made a joke. "No, I think you'll find otherwise."

Voldemort lowered his wand now, opening the book again, but this time something wasn't quite right, the images, the detailed images on the pages seemed liquid sloshing about on the page like water would in a bowl, and at this Voldemort's eyes widened as did his Deatheaters'. As he opened the book wider, the drawings couldn't hold on any longer, sliding off of the page and hitting the floor the coloured ink hitting the stone floor with smoke coming off of it creating a hole in the floor—like acid.

"WHAT IS THIS?" Voldemort bellowed tipping up the book the rest of the drawing draining out. He then tipped his own head back, roaring in resentment and thrashing the dripping book aside, it hitting the wall and bouncing back, sliding and hitting my feet. "YOU WILL PAY!"

"In what currency?" Cassie smiled.

He lost his temper completely, the snake that had been awaiting its call to attack us slid back, now going after Cassie, a few of his Deatheaters tried to help but he roared again.

"SHE IS MINE!"

"Like I said, if you make one more move I will burn every last page in this book." She winked. "And now we know who has the real one don't we?"

"AVADA KEDAVERA!" Voldemort shouted, my heart raced up to my mouth as the green jet of light sped towards Cassie, only for her to fall backwards throwing the book into the spell. On impact the book spun, the green light colliding with the black blinding causing a bright stream of light to burst, the book combusting with a loud BANG!

As Cassie fell back it appeared that more people began to arise from behind the chair, and when I mean a few people I meant a lot. It was probably the entire Auror office spreading out and attacking any deatheater that they could find.

Now, with the Deatheaters and Voldemort distracted, I grabbed Petunias wrists and encouraged her to come with me, her frightened expression showing awe at the power in the room, my struggle at trying to drag her along and up the stairs to a safe place so I could be of some help while knowing she was safe.

Subconsciously though, my eyes were drawn over to where James had been held Capture only to see that he was no longer there. I looked around the room trying to spot him, only to feel a pat on the shoulder.

"James." I breathed, a little shocked.

He placed his finger to his lips and brought out the cloak of invisibility, placing it over Petunia and me, and encouraging us to go up the stairs.

I blinked. "I'm staying here to fight." I told him, hands on my hips. Perhaps the timing of my stubbornness was not the best.

"It's not safe here, take Petunia and get yourself out." He told me, putting a hand on my back and guiding me away.

"No. I'm going to help."

But then Cassie appeared, rolling her eyes. "I'll take her, okay?"

Sighing, I nodded, James putting the cloak over Petunia, Cassie guiding her away.

Suddenly, a flash of red light shot right passed my ear, ducking down below the stairs, James by my side.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" he asked, directing his wand at Mulciber and said "Petrificus Totalus" causing him to fall to the ground.

"I am not stubborn, I just want to help."

"You will get hurt!" he hissed firing a spell at the recently recovered Avery, who still looks as though his pride was wounded. "Confundus!

"Are you trying to imply that I cannot defend for myself, because if so, I can handle myself very well thank you very much" I nodded, muttering "Pretego" at the protection of an oncoming spell.

He sighed smiling a little before saying. "I know." We parted ways after that, him going in one direction and me in the other, taking on anyone who wanted to be challenged. That was until the fire.

There was an ear splitting shriek coming from Voldemort, each and every person in the room held their hands to their ears, pained expressions held . Voldemort raised his wand, the only one fully standing, a flame that was the shape of a snake erupted from it.

"Retreat!" Someone yelled, that person being Moody, beckoning his aurors back even the Deatheaters retreating a little, the stone room looking smaller with the amount of people within it, 'pops' to be heard in and out from people disapproving out of the room, the fire from Voldemort's wand begging to try and snap and the heels of aurors, Moody trying to get people to safety, casting a spell at the flame- nothing seemed to tame it. Voldemort's face glowered, cackling at his creation.

"Evans, move it!" James called, grabbing me by the wrist, my apparent awe of the fire was broken. But there, directly in front of the flames were Moody and the muggleborn boy, trying to tame it but failing to do so. We began to try and disapparate, but our concentration was tainted, fear taking over as we saw the fiery snake stand tall over Moody, him fall back. My fingers gripped onto James wrist, at the last second trying to let go to help Moody. But it was too late, the world was already twisting, my breathing constricted the feeling as though my body was being compressed was there once again.

**Author note: Hope you enjoyed Cassie really annoying Voldemort and practically saving the day... or making things worse ;) But I certainly loved writing it. **

**Ickleblueeyedwitch**


	26. Chapter 26 The Last day

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

**Chapter 26: The Last Day.**

The next time we saw Moody, things were a little different.

We limped up to the doorway of the little street that was much more silent than our last visit, the crunching of the stones against our shoes could be heard, the atmosphere absent of camera men and women, the street cleared and tidy. Like it was when we first arrived on the 9th. But this time we had a guests and answers.

My knuckles rapped against the door, all five of us standing back a little waiting for some reply. After few minutes of waiting there was a shuffling behind the door, sounds of fort nox unlocking seemed to be occurring until finally the door slowly swung open, with a small fragile face peering behind it. Mrs Hawks.

"Lily, James!" she exclaimed, her small figure hugging the both of us. "Oh and you brought friends!"

"Hello Mrs Hawks." We smiled as she encouraged us in. We all trailed in, Mrs Hawks going in first, heading to the kitchen. We all crowded into the living room, taking place on the couch waiting for her to arrive. Like she, the room hadn't changed still covered in pictures of Kevin, scattered in every corner, the ticking clock and small ornaments. I smiled at the simplicity of the place.

"She didn't spot him then?" Cassie leant over and whispered, cocking her head to the side at the man whom as sit in the single couch opposite the one that was unoccupied, that would be occupied soon by Mrs Hawks.

"Not yet." I winked.

After a shuffling of feet, and tray full of biscuits that were taller than she was Mrs Hawks appeared. Her face was beaming at the thought of some company.

"Now, I have run out of custard creams but there are still some-" her mouth abruptly stopped moving, her eyes locking with the man sat in the single arm chair.

"Jennifer?" Jerome Parley stood up, a small smile playing on his lips.

At this, Mrs Hawks dropped her tray of biscuits.

"...J-Jerome? Is-is that you?" she stuttered, knowing the answer to her own question. The brims of her eyes began to fill up, shakily making her way over to him the both of them taking each other in as though they were paintings in a gallery. Slowly, Jerome held out a hand for her to take, Mrs Hawk's hand shook a little but she took it, her eyebrows furrowing. She looked so confused..happy, yet confused.

"You don't know how long I have waited for this moment." Jerome smiled, his light eyes glistening at the sight of her, the fine lines around his eyes becoming more prominent as his light hair with woven in strands of grey was pushed back out of his eyes.

"And how long I have wanted to do this." Mrs Hawks muttered. They began to lean it, my first thought was that they were going to kiss, I directed my eyes sideways, seeing that Cassie now had all of the biscuits on her lap, leaning in like she was watching a film. But I was wrong.

As she got closer, Mrs Hawks took out her hand and without warning struck Jerome Parley across the face. And for a little old lady, she could pack a punch.

"What...?" Jerome gasped.

"Ooooh." Cassie winced. "Biscuit?" she offered Mr Potter one, who looked as shocked as we did.

"You leave me all of those years, and you expect me to kiss you?" she put her hands on her hips.

He rubbed his face, looking slightly taken aback. "N-No but-"

"Leave me to fend for myself with a baby-"

"I-I didn't know about him until-"

"Until?"

"Until we met a few month ago-"

"Why are you here?"

Jerome shuffled his feet, his cheeks becoming a little red along with his ears. "...To see you."

But she stopped him, by placing a neat, yet sweet kiss on his lips. She crossed her arms against her chest, before sitting back in the chair. Neat yet simple.

We spent our afternoon conversing with the two of them, the two of them re-kindling their friendship but something that struck me was how easy they got along, that same spark that was alight in the both of them all those years ago continued, even after their son had come and gone. They would pull each other through this difficult time, I just knew it. I was glad to bring them together after all of this time. And bring them some much needed answers.

"Mrs Hawks, we know this is not the right time perhaps, but you asked Lily and James to find out why your son was killed..." Mr Potter began, the mood of the room changing slightly, as if the wind had changed direction. This caught the attention of both Mrs Hawks and Jerome, cutting the small talk out completely, both now looking hurt.

"I want to know." She muttered. "I know now that he wasn't muggleborn, so why...?"

James and I looked between each other awkwardly, my hand making its way to my pocket retrieving the book Voldemort had thrown away in his fit of rage, the book I had retrieved out of pure curiosity.

"Mrs Hawks, Jerome, you know that your son was a seer." I began, to which Jerome nodded. Mrs Hawks didn't move. "Well, as you know Jerome when certain images would find him he had to burden what he found...so that day when we came to your house Mrs Hawks we found this book."

I held it up for them to see.

"It is a collection-" James stopped, correcting himself "It _was_ a collection of predictions that delve into the events of the future, how far we aren't sure..."

" But what we know is, is that Voldemort wanted to have this book very much, and from what we can guess Kevin refused causing his murder." Mr Potter finished.

The room became silent, both Jerome and Mrs Hawks looked down at their laps.

"May I see it?" Mrs Hawks piped up suddenly. "The book, may I see it?"

So I handed it to her. Just like that.

After a while James took my hand and we slipped away, out into the fields at the back of Mrs Hawks house taking a seat on the grass covered hill surrounded amongst daisies and dandelions, sitting in silence for a second.

"Are you okay?" James asked, sitting beside me. We both were facing forward, not looking at one another. We hadn't properly spoke since the night of the battle.

"Are you?" I didn't really answer his question.

"I am sorry."

I turned around to face him, narrowing my eyes. "Do you even know what you are sorry for?"

He nodded, the beginning of his eyebrows tinting down.

"Of course I do! Look, I was just scared."

"Like the time before with McNolly?" He nodded, running his hands through his hair. "You made me get on the broom when you knew I didn't trust him?"

"I-"

"Or how you told me to torture my own sister and an innocent muggleborn just to save my own life?"

I stood up, brushing away the frustrated tears that had began to trail down my cheeks. James copied, standing up putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Look, we know we can trust him now. He was telling the truth, he changed sides last minute. And about Petunia, her memory has been modified, you know that, she won't ever remember."

I frowned. "James, that's not the point."

"I know but, I was only looking out for you. I didn't want you to get hurt! Should I have to apologise for that?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "I can't believe you are asking that!"

"Well I am not sorry for trying to save your life Lily! I love you for crying out loud, is that a crime?"

He hadn't ever said that out loud before. Well he had, but never seriously. Although I knew he meant it, although I could see it as he held my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes my still shrugged him off. I pushed my hair behind my ears.

"Are you sure about that? Or is winning the bet more important to you?" The words slipped out before I could take them back. He retracted immediately, as if I had just slapped him, adjusting his new rectangular glasses. "James-" I began to apologise.

"Save it. I don't know how you know about that, but that was a stupid thing that just happened, I haven't thought about it in years. But I shouldn't have to justify myself to you." He repeated my words I had said to Voldemort.

"James-"

"Hardly Miss perfect are we Evans? I saw things too you know, things you said about me to your stupid friends!" he kicked the grass.

I felt like he had kicked me in the chest. My chest ached my heart repeated the feeling, wanting to escape.

"Evans again is it? What happened to Lily?"

James narrowed his eyes, scoffing before running his finger through his hair.

"Good question. What happened to her?"

And with this he walked away, down the hill and out of sight.

* * *

><p>"I am sure you both know by now how meddling can cause a great deal of difficulty and put you in danger."<p>

James and I nodded, our heads bowed.

We were inside one of the auror offices, Professor Dumbledore sitting at the desk in front of us, his long bead trailed down his front, his kind light eyes surveyed the two of us, clearly seeing the tension between us. We had been excused for our last presentation of our work experience, enabling us to spare some time for Dumbledore to discuss what had happened and to sort out our blue hands for good.

"And I am sure that by now you know that Matthew McNolly, although eventually his intentions were pure will be punished for his crimes." Dumbledore began, his bright blue eyes fixated upon the two of us, my gaze avoiding him, watching the simmering caldron in which both James and I had our hands in.

"And us, sir?"

Dumbledore placed his hands together, nodding slowly.

"I do believe that in these circumstances due to what you have experienced, there will be no need for punishment. And I have been told of your duty to a...Mrs Hawks?"

We nodded.

"Yes, well we will make sure that the best protections are cast over her and Jerome Parley."

James frowned, his head rising. "But...but you think Voldemort might try and come back to kill them?"

Dumbledore however didn't look in the least bit surprised, taking out a sherbet lemon sweet from his highly colourful robe and unwrapping it.

"Most certainly." My eyes widened at this. "You can go now, I am sure Mr Potter will want you at the closing presentation for your Work experience..." Dumbledore smiled at this, as if he had thought of something terribly amusing. He pushed his delicate glasses down his nose to look at us. "Or lack of it."

At this, James and I removed our hands from the caldron, smiles forming on both of our lips as we saw our own hands again as he raised them up to the light. Laid out in front of us were a pile of bandages—it would have appeared that while the potion had cured us of our blue handed problem, it wasn't enough to heal the cuts.

After thanking Dumbledore and collecting ourselves together we scuttled out of the office, heads hanging. But almost as I was out of the door did I remember, placing my hand inside my pocket and bringing the book that Voldemort had thrown away into light, turning around and going to the desk.

"Sir, I think you should have this."

I placed the black book on the desk, Dumbledore frowning at it before lifting it up in the air to get a better look.

"Ahh, I presume this is the book that caused all of the trouble?"

"Yes sir..." I began to head to the door, but stopping at the last minute and turning again. Not quite finished. "Sir...I am sorry but I don't understand."

Dumbledore raised his curved grey eyebrow. "Understand?"

I pushed my red hair behind my ear with my now bandaged hand. "The book sir, if this one was the real one then why couldn't Voldemort see the drawings?"

Dumbledore smiled, getting up and coming around the desk, leaning on the edge flicking through the book.

"From what I can guess is that this book, the predictions inside it are hidden."

"Hidden, sir?"

"Hidden from the eyes of those whose intentions are not pure. And from what I know, is that your friend...the young Cassie is it? Figured that out."

I frowned. "Cassie?"

Dumbledore smiled to himself. "It appears that Cassie tricked Lord Voldemort into thinking that she had the real book by enchanting the book herself some time ago. She knew, as it were, what would happen when he looked inside. It was luck that he didn't understand nor realise that he did in fact have the real book, because if he had your life would be in jeopardy."

"Cassie placed the enchantment on the book? When? How?" I couldn't believe my ears. Cassie had always been called the loaded cannon by Moody, a little clumsy and perhaps ditsy, not really taking anything very seriously. So how had she managed to illude the greatest dark wizard of all time?

Dumbledore smiled. "It appears that when you asked her about the name of Kevin Hawks she was perhaps a step ahead. And I do believe as the saying goes 'Don't judge a book by its cover'." He waved Kevin Hawks book.

I smiled, a confused smile at that. As I departed the office, seeing that James had waited, listening in to the conversation, although we weren't on speaking terms we walked silently down the corridor making our way to the end office, in the same manner as we did when we had first arrived. Late and annoyed with one another.

The doorway was opened, revealing a few seats filled with Work experience trainees all looking at a screen in which was covering above the ground, going through different achievements met by different partners.

"Miss Evans, Mr Potter what excuse is it this time?" Mr Potter. Although, unlike the first time he was a little softer towards us.

We looked between each other.

"Sorry sir." I muttered, handing him our letter from Dumbledore. He briefly looked at it, smiling encouraging us to take our seats.

We did so, limping our way over to Alice and Frank, my eyes opening in surprise as I saw that their fingers were intertwined, discreetly yes, but still. I turned my head, raising an eyebrow at her, causing her to blush. Frank only smiled, a big smile so that his plump cheeks were rising with his bold freckles that were scattered across his nose and cheeks. Funny how three weeks can change a person from being a lost puppy to a young man.

"So, what have we learnt from our time here?" Mr Potter asked.

I thought about that question, several hands going up and mine staying in my lap silently thinking about the few weeks that we had had, and how draining they had been. Yes, we hadn't had the most normal Work Experience, but we had really shadowed our Aurors, learning firsthand how they batted their way out of harm.

A large figure hobbled over the doorway, filling up the door causing everyone to turn their heads to face them. It was Moody, well Moody minus a little. His leg was missing from the Fiendfyre, in its place stood a mechanical leg to which he proudly showed around—his battle wounds. And to my surprise, by his side finding her way into the room was Cassie, looking still as peppy as ever, her t-shirt now black and reading the Rolling stones, a rainbow coloured bag stretched across her shoulders.

"I have learnt the pressure there is on Aurors!" One girl answered.

"I have learnt that there is a lot of paperwork..." Frank muttered.

"Cassie!" I whispered, waving her over. She grinned, the rest of the room going back to answering Mr Potters question as Cassie shuffled her way through the seats, tripping and falling into the seat in the middle of James and I.

"So, how are we my buddies?" she asked, putting her arms around the shoulders of James and I.

"Shhh." A girl from Slytherin turned around in her seat, telling Cassie off.

"Sorry!" she apologised, Moody rolling his eyes, taking his seat at the back of the room.

"I can't believe how great you were!" I lowered my voice not wanting be in more trouble for talking.

"Yeah, how on earth did you do it?" James asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

However, Cassie leant back in her chair, folded her arms and tapped her nose.

"You remember what I told you? Cassie. Sees. Everything. And don't you forget it."

**Author note: So there we have it, the final chapter... I am really sorry for how long it took me to upload this chapter, and It may not be all that you had hoped but this was the best I could produce. The amount of times I had tried to do an alternative to this has been countless and this chapter came the most natural to me of all of the attempts. **

**There may a few questions left unanswered, but rest assured I shall deal with them, as I am writing a sequel which will be up in a few days. I shall post the description of it here.**

**By the way, it will be called The Undercover Order trial and you can see a preview of it if you click that 'next' button!**

**I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much I have enjoyed writing it. **

**Ickleblueeyedwitch**

**Thankyou to; Twix123, LadyVonne, EnchantedWords17,Sapphire Leo, Bookluver52, Livmore, Emilylovessiriusblack, chocolatesnipe, Pray4love, musingmarauder, Haruhi-chan131, Mingygirl12, TJTMaria, MoonstoneGold13, Emily15, and Catgirlie for reviewing and giving feedback.**

**And a special thanks to Campbell93, Swimdiva87, Twilightstargazer and m1347 for reviewing so consistently.**

**And to anyone who has subscribed to me as an author or this story. Thank you very much!**


	27. Undercover Auror Trial Preview

**Available to read now.**

**I do not own Harry Potter or the places, people or items mentioned. They all belong to J.K Rowling.**

The Undercover Order Trial Preview.

After putting the dangers of their Work Experience at the Ministry behind them, Lily and James look forward to a normal 7th year. But it appears Dumbledore has different plans; Now, they will go undercover in a muggle school to try capture something that has even Lord Voldemort himself befuddled.

(Sequel to The Work Experience Trial.)


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